The Changing of the Seasons
by Tulipa Negra
Summary: Isla Black is the proud, haughty and neglected daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. When she decides to join the Slytherin Quidditch Team, her life is about to change in ways she had never believed possible.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Journey Home

She was walking barefooted on a beautiful meadow, with the glorious sun shining down on her. A boy, no more than eight years old, was laughing and running in front of her. Her heart lifted; she had not seen his face, his beloved face, for eleven years. She went after him and cried "Sirius, wait!", but he continued to run towards the stream that flowed on the side of the meadow. As he reached it, he slowed down, then turned. When he saw her gaining on him, he gave a great squeal of surprise, and jumped into the water.

"Sirius, NO!"

Isla woke with a start. She was sweating and panting.

"A dream" she thought. "Just a dream.

* * *

Unable to go back to sleep, she rose and dressed, putting on directly her school robes: she greatly disliked changing on the train. She pulled her armchair near the window, and opened the heavy brown drapes. A cold, clear sky was revealed over the square in front of the house, where people were already hurrying to their errands. The yellowing leaves swayed on the trees, as a gentle breeze passed through them. Autumn was coming fast. Isla sat on the armchair, and, lost in thought, gazed out of the window, at the lazy clouds floating harmlessly by, the passing carriages, the robins hoping merrily from branch to branch on the nearest tree. A smile was slowly forming on her thin lips; school, at last, was starting. She knew that it was highly unusual for people of her age to be anxious to go back to school, but she could not help feeling elated at the prospect. She began playing with a strand of her long, wavy black hair.

A knock was heard on her door.

"Isla, are you coming? Breakfast is served", said her younger sister's voice.

"Yes, Elladora, thank you."

The family scarcely spoke during breakfast, but this unpleasant business was soon over. Phineas, her eldest brother, Isla and Elladora rose, and one by one bowed to their father before exiting the room. He barely looked up from that morning's _Daily Prophet._

"Have a safe journey" was all he bestowed upon his three children departing for Hogwarts with his cold, measured voice. "Phineas, I shall expect to hear from you every week to inform me of your academic progress."

"Yes, father", answered he in a voice too much like his father's.

Their mother was waiting for them in the hall, and reminded them of the time. All four stepped into the autumn breeze and climbed the carriage that awaited them in front of the house. Isla could hardly keep her joy to herself: she was truly returning to Hogwarts. These three months away from school had seemed far too long to her.

"Elladora, is your cloak warm enough?", said Mrs Black.

"Yes, mother, I am fine."

"You will write to me often, won't you, dear?"

"Of course, mother."

When they arrived at King's Cross Station, heads turned in their direction with little effort at discretion, as they made their way towards Platform 9 3/4. Naturally, they did not bother to disguise themselves, and the shocking replacement of bonnets and top hat with wizarding hats scandalized the onlooking muggles. Mrs Black, Phineas, Isla and Elladora held their heads high in contempt. As soon as they were through the barrier to the platform, their mother kissed them goodbye, and left immediately.

"Well, Isla, I will look for you after I am done with my Prefect meeting", said Phineas importantly. He did love power so much. "But I won't stay long, I will be joining Gamp and Burke."

"Of course. I will be with Sophia and Ursula."

"Ursula Flint? I am glad you are still on good terms with her. The Flints are an old family. And Maximilian Flint might very well be the next Minister, when that mudblood-loving fool Gambol leaves." Phineas threw a dirty look on the scarlet steam engine. "Humph, Muggle contraptions indeed!" he whispered.

"I hardly think I have ever given you any reason for alarm as to my social interactions, Phineas."

"Of course not. You are a perfect sister, even if you did fail History of Magic."

"Never make a compliment without immediately contradicting it", said Isla, hiding her slightly hurt feelings in an ironic smile and twinkle of the eye. "Someone might think you are jinxed."

Phineas raised a disapproving, thin eyebrow, and stepped onto the train without another word. She soon spotted Sophia Prince and Ursula Flint, and together they boarded the Hogwarts Express. They began searching for an empty compartment, and entered the first they found, pulling their trunks in.

"I will join you later", said Sophia stepping into the corridor. "Prefect meeting."

Isla let her tawny owl, Pegasus, out of his cage, and he positioned himself next to the window. After a few minutes of awkward silence, which neither of the girls seemed willing to break, her companion deemed it necessary to attempt beginning a conversation.

"Which classes will you be taking to NEWT level, then?", asked Ursula.

"Well, I failed History of Magic and Potions, and I think I will drop Arithmancy and Astronomy as well. So, I will be taking Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Herbology and Runes."

"Your brother was not pleased with your grades in History of Magic and Potions, I presume", she said, with a very superior look. "I believe he got 10 OWLs, did he not?"

Isla tried hard not to reply what had immediately come to her mind. For her, the Prefect Meeting could not end too soon.

* * *

"Your brother gave us a half-an-hour lecture pressing the importance and honor of being a prefect, and the need to make the most of it" said Sophia to Isla as soon as she entered the compartment an hour later.

"I can well believe it. You should have heard him when he got the letter and the Head Boy badge."

"Why should he not be proud of his achievement?" interrupted Ursula. "It is a privilege for Slytherin to produce a Head Boy, and Mr Black has worked hard to gain the title."

"Oh, well. He still cannot forgive me for not being made a Prefect, so I do not think I will forgive him for becoming Head Boy", replied Isla calmly.

"As you please, but you can hardly deny he deserved it" said Ursula, slightly annoyed.

"Did you know Jacob Greengrass is the new Quidditch captain?" said Sophia, trying to change the subject. "Though I cannot see why, Mr Gamp is a much better Chaser. He will need a new Seeker and a new Beater, though, now that Mr Montague and my brother have finished school."

"Well, I intend to try out for Seeker", stated Isla.

"But would your brother approve?", asked Ursula meanly, as soon as both girls recovered from the initial shock of what Isla had just uttered.

"Mine wouldn't", said Sophia. " And even if he did, I doubt my parents would."

"Phineas would be glad of any chance to show pure-blood , and most especially Black, superiority to the mudblood-loving fools, even if it means his sister plays Quidditch", said Isla. "As for my parents, I do not pretend to be able to manipulate them, that is Phineas' area of expertise, but they hardly care what I do, as long as I do not shame the name of Black. And I never do."

"And do you believe you have any chance of getting the position?" Ursula was watching her sideways, with a very unpleasant smile playing about her mouth. Flints might be an old family, but this is going a bit too far, thought Isla.

"I do have the right built. I am small and light, and I am reasonably skilled at flying. My eyesight is more than satisfactory" it was Isla's turn to do the sideway looking towards Ursula's spectacles, "which is more than can be said for most, and I have practiced quite hard during the summer. I think I have a chance of succeeding."

"Well, I hope you get the position, but I would be cautious, if I were you", warned Sophia. "That slippery eel Caracactus Burke is trying out too, and, from what my brother tells me, he tried last year as well, but did not succeed."

"I hope I am a better flyer than _Burke_!"

"Skill isn't always enough, as you very well know", snapped Sophia. "Sometimes brain can be a good deal more efficient."

"I am lucky, then, to possess both."

"A true Slytherin!", laughed Sophia.

"Oh, enough Quidditch talk!", complained Ursula. "Isla, when is your brother coming?"

"He said he would come after the Prefect meeting. I don't think he will be long now."

* * *

Phineas did not keep Ursula waiting for long: he soon entered their compartment, with an evidently false benevolent expression on his face, accompanied by his two friends. Ursula tried, and in Isla's opinion failed, to hide her evident pleasure in seeing them.

"Ah, there you are, Isla. Miss Prince, Miss Flint", he bowed to the two girls. His eyes lingered shrewdly in Ursula's direction.

Admittedly, Sophia was the handsomest, with flowing golden hair falling in curls on her back, a tall, slender figure, and a face like an angel's, with emerald green eyes to complete the loveliness, but her uncle was a mere shopkeeper in Diagon Alley, not about to become Minister for Magic. So, Ursula, with her blonde, limp hair, expressionless countenance, freckled nose and mean blue eyes covered by thick spectacles was the centre of Phineas' attentions.

As for Isla, she was perhaps not a great beauty, but she was pretty enough. Small, with long wavy black hair and dark intelligent eyes, thin eyebrows, a long, thin nose, snow white skin and a small mouth, she greatly resembled Phineas.

After the usual exchange of meaningless pleasantries, that seemed so important to their eyes, Phineas sat next to Ursula and began talking exclusively to her. Caracactus Burke and Andronicus Gamp, soon claimed part of the ladies attentions, especially Sophia's, who had no particular interest in Phineas.

"I hear you are not made Quidditch captain, Mr Gamp", said Isla. "You were overthrown by Mr Greengrass."

"We all expected that your skill would be appreciated more", said Sophia.

"Ah, well, it is Greengrass' last year, after all. He might as well enjoy it", said Gamp, and it was quite evident that he did not mean a word he uttered.

"Oh, I do not doubt that he will", said Isla shrewdly. "There will be a great many changes in the team this year, I take it."

"Yes, we will need a new Seeker and a new Beater, and no one is good enough. I did not know you were interested in Quidditch", remarked Gamp perplexed.

"Well, we are interested in anything that might serve the honor of Slytherin", said Sophia, grasping the opportunity, "and would be more than happy to help in any way we can."

"Well, I don't suppose you play Quidditch, do you?", laughed Gamp. But an idea seemed to strike him. "Do you?", he asked the two apparently surprised girls.

"To be honest, I don't, but Miss Black is a fairly good flyer."

"Yes, I recall, now you mention it, that day we went flying during the holidays in France. And she has the right built, too", said Gamp, examining her. "For a Seeker, I mean."

Isla could hardly hide a smile. Her friend's manipulation skills had always amazed her. She was too ironic to do it herself, and, in any case, she was much more of a straightforward person. She would either speak her mind, or would not speak at all.

The rest of the journey passed quietly. As the train traveled further north, the scenery became wilder, the sky darker with clouds, and it soon began to rain. By the time they reached Hogsmeade Station, night had fallen and a storm was raging. Isla stepped out of the train, tightly wrapping a thick cloak around her, and breathed deeply. The smell of earth mingled with rain had a soothing effect on her, after the long journey on the Hogwarts Express. The illuminated windows of the castle were just visible through the heavy curtain of rain. She smiled. She had returned.

Ursula boarded a carriage, and as Sophia made to follow her, Isla grabbed her arm and detained her.

"Thank you", she whispered.

Sophia smiled.

"Anything for a friend."

"Not very Slytherin of you", remarked Isla, half smiling.

"Yes, well. But my skills prove me a true little serpent."

"Through and through."

And laughing, they climbed the carriage.

* * *

As Isla walked into the Great Hall, a warmth, that had little to do with the heat of the room, filled her in a way that nothing and no one, with the possible exception of Sophia, made her feel. She had forgotten how it was, but it felt strangely like coming home, after a very long and tiring journey. Candles were floating everywhere, and the ceiling reflected the stormy sky outside the castle's walls. It was a beautiful sight to behold, that caused Isla to stop dead on her tracks to admire it. She had inhabited the castle for five years now, and its splendid and unique magic never ceased to thrill and amaze her.

"Cousin Isla!" she heard a cry from the Slytherin table as soon as she entered the Hall. A tall, blond boy was waving at her. She heard Sophia take a sharp breath and whisper "It's your cousin, Mr Max".

"Cousin Duilius!", Isla bowed as soon as she reached him. "May we join you?"

"But of course! How was your summer holiday? It was unfortunate that we did not meet. How was France?"

At that moment, the doors opened and the first-years were brought in by Professor Bones, Head of Gryffindor House and the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. A tall, fat man, he made his way towards the platform of the teacher's table, his thick, white hair and beard gleaming in the candle light. He unrolled a scroll of parchment, and with his booming voice, began calling the first-years to be sorted.

The Sorting was soon over, and Professor Fortescue, the Headmaster, rose.

"Welcome to Hogwarts!" he said in an unnecessary loud voice. "Let me inform our new students that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds. And now, let the feast begin!"

Food appeared in the formerly empty plates on the tables. Chatter commenced immediately.

"So, Mr Max, how was your holiday?", asked Sophia, who was sitting right across him.

"Quiet. Mama was of course fussing over Gaius coming to Hogwarts. One would think that after four children leaving for school, a fifth would make no difference."

"She cares. Many wish they could say the same of their mothers, believe me. You are lucky" said Isla.

"Anyway, I was training for Quidditch. I think I will try out for Beater."

"Really? How wonderful! I was thinking of trying out for Seeker."

"Well, I do hope we shall both be successful!"

"How did you do in your OWLs?" asked Sophia.

"Quite well, thank you, Miss Prince", said Duilius. "I failed Divination and Potions, I have to admit, but the rest were most satisfying. And what about yourself?"

"Oh, well, hers was the only letter with Outstandings from top to bottom", interrupted Isla.

"How extraordinary, Miss Prince! Congratulations!", said Duilius admiringly.

"Thank you, sir", said Sophia, and the slightest hint of a blush appeared on her cheeks. It took Isla to notice, who knew her better than anyone.

For the whole of the feast, Ursula was absorbed in conversation with Phineas, and Isla wondered what they were talking about. Classes, she thought. After all, she had taken the exact same subjects as he had.

After the feast, Sophia went to show the way to the dungeons to the Slytherin first-years, and Isla and Ursula made their way towards the Slytherin common room on their own, an arrangement that Isla resented greatly. She resented every time she had to spend on her own with Ursula for more than five minutes. However, Flints were an old family, and for the sake of decorum, or what she had come to realize it to actually be, greed, she never showed the slightest hint of dislike towards her.

"Mr Max seemed most engaging this evening", said Ursula.

"Well, he is a charming young man. Phineas might choose to ignore our cousin, but I do not intend to do so", said Isla defiantly.

"He must have good reason, though."

"His reason is that his mother is a Potter, which is bordering on blood treason for Phineas. Our grandfather had no objection to the marriage, and my parents are on excellent terms with the Maxes. Why Phineas should disapprove, however, is beyond me."

Isla's tone made Ursula not pursue the matter further. They went directly to their dormitory, which bore a sign reading "Sixth Years", and began preparing for bed.

Just as they were getting into their fourposters, Sophia entered.

"I am exhausted" she said and sat on the end of Isla's bed.

"You had better go to sleep, we must get up early tomorrow", said Ursula.

All three girls said goodnight, and drew the hangings of their beds.

Isla laid down and almost immediately fell asleep. That night, at last, no nightmares tormented her slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Quidditch

The first thing that Isla saw when she woke up the next morning was the emerald green hangings of her four-poster bed. She smiled slightly. Without any ado, she rose, dressed and headed towards the Great Hall, where Sophia was already taking breakfast. She sat beside her, and, as she filled her cup with tea, Phineas joined them. He looked deadly.

"Is it true that you are planning to try out for Seeker?"

Isla did not lower her gaze, but blushed furiously.

"And how do you know?"

"Miss Flint informed me, and Gamp said you ought to be given a tryout."

"Well, there you are."

"You don't deny it, then."

"Of course not. It was not supposed to be a secret anyway. I have done nothing wrong. All I wish to do is compete for the honor of my house and of my family in an area where I might have a chance of distinguishing myself."

"And what about classes? Aren't they enough?"

"Phineas, you know perfectly well that I am not the brightest, nor most studious, witch in this school. And do not pretend that you welcome competition in academic achievements, because gallantry does not suit you. It is not as if I will be the only girl in the school playing Quidditch, anyway. Julia Lestrange plays Keeper, and all the other houses have at least one female player on their teams."

"I don't care what the mudblood dens do!"

"Mr Black, please", said Sophia soothingly. "Your sister is only trying to establish pure-blood superiority. The only way she believes she can achieve her goal is through Quidditch. Let us not condemn her motives. And let us not forget the importance of the Quidditch Cup being won by Slytherin, and the glory it would mean for the members of its team."

Phineas was not easy to manipulate. He was the master of manipulation. He seemed suspicious, but he also seemed to appreciate the truth in Sophia's words.

"Well, let us hope your flying is better than your potion making."

Even though Isla was used to his manner, his complete lack of faith hurt her; but, then again, that was the way of her family. Everything was calculated, and absolutely nothing should be left to chance.

* * *

As soon as Phineas left, Ursula joined them.

"What did your brother want?", she asked with a very superior air.

"Oh, nothing in particular", said Isla, controlling her rage. "We were discussing Quidditch."

"I see."

"So, which classes are you taking this year, Ursula?", asked Sophia.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy, Transfiguration, Potions and Charms."

"How extraordinary. So did my brother last year. Did _he _influence in any way your choice?", said Isla buttering with unnecessary force a piece of toast.

Ursula looked ready to reply something very spiteful, but at that moment, Professor Nott, the Astronomy teacher and Head of Slytherin House, appeared handing out timetables.

"Anything amiss, Miss Flint?", she said in her deep, calm voice.

"N-no, Professor."

"I hope so. Now, which classes will you be taking this year?" Her narrow, black eyes underneath her thick eyebrows, and her long black hair falling on her midnight blue robes combined with her eternal serenity made her look positively lethal.

After all three had been given their timetables, Professor Nott moved on.

"Oh, in Merlin's name", moaned Sophia as she examined her timetable. "Who can bear History of Magic on Monday morning?"

"They who take it to NEWT level. I have Runes. What about you, Ursula?"

"I begin with Care of Magical Creatures" said Ursula.

"We will see you in Transfiguration, then", said Isla, rising, and pulling Sophia to her feet. She burst as they reached the Marble Staircase.

"The insolent girl! Her nerve! How could she!"

"Remember, Isla, she is a Flint. She will do anything to have her way, and her way is a rich, pure-blood husband!"

"Yes, as is ours, but I would never-NEVER-do such a thing to secure one!"

"Don't let any Slytherin hear you say this."

Isla looked around at Sophia, alarmed.

"Why do you say that?"

"You just sounded terribly... well, terribly loyal and honor-bound, that's all. I know you wouldn't do such a thing, but don't brag about it in front of Slytherins."

"But I _am_ a Slytherin. Don't be ridiculous! Loyal and honor-bound! I'm a Black!"

* * *

Isla practiced Quidditch daily during the first week of term. After class, she would run down to the Quidditch pitch, release a Snitch, and fly for two or three hours. The tryouts were scheduled for the first Saturday of the school year, and she desperately wanted to get into the house team. Phineas raised his eyebrows disapprovingly every time she entered the common room grasping her broom and dripping mud, but that only increased her determination.

Classes admittedly were becoming very demanding, and Isla caught herself wishing she had taken less subjects. But she preferred to keep busy than stay idle. In that first week, exhausted though she was, she had little sleep so that she could manage both homework and intense Quidditch training. By Friday evening, however, she looked dreadful; she could barely keep her eyes open, and she was as white as death, having skipped dinner for nearly a week.

Sophia made her eat double helpings at dinner the night before the tryouts, and when Isla announced that she intended to run down to the dormitory to fetch her broom, she was beside herself.

"You will do nothing of the kind! It is a miracle you have managed to survive this week. You have practiced enough. What you need now is _rest_", and she led her towards the dungeons. Isla could not find enough energy in her body to resist, so she let herself to Sophia's guidance.

As soon as she touched the mattress of her bed, she fell into a deep sleep.

At breakfast, Isla could hardly look at the food surrounding her, let alone eat it. Sophia insisted that she ate, even a small bowl of porridge, and Isla felt immense relief and gratitude towards her, who did not judge or condemn her. Ursula, on the other hand, looked at her across the table, through her thick spectacles, hardly trying to disguise her pleasure at Isla's evident anxiety. Not long afterwards, Isla could bear no more, and rose to leave the Great Hall. Just as she stepped into the Entrance Hall, she met Phineas.

"Well, Isla, good luck", he said, poison dripping from every syllable he uttered. "I do hope you will not make a fool of yourself."

Sophia dragged her out of the Entrance Hall, and led her towards the Quidditch pitch. Isla glanced backwards just in time to see Phineas and Ursula exchange a nasty little smile. Her spirits sank, and nervousness bubbled up in her stomach; however, as soon as she arrived on the pitch, everything else was driven out of her mind, and only one thing mattered: Quidditch.

The weather was dry, in contrast with the previous days, but the cold was bitter and clouds were hiding the sun. She waited on the benches with Sophia and Ursula. The Beaters were called to try out first. Isla wished Duilius good luck. About ten students had come to try out, and after an hour or so, Duilius was chosen, to Isla's delight.

"Well done, cousin, I am very happy for you", she said to him as she was getting onto the pitch.

"Thank you! And the best of luck to you", he said, with a genuine smile spreading over his face.

Isla was encouraged by Duilius' warmness, and, as she moved towards the Captain and the rest of the team, she regained confidence in her skill and effort.

"Good luck, Miss Black", said Gamp as she approached. "Though I doubt you will need it."

"Thank you", she replied perplexed, bowing slightly.

The instructions Greengrass gave to the five potential Seekers were simple: all would try to locate and catch the Snitch. The first one to do so, would be selected for the team. The contestants mounted their brooms, and kicked off the ground.

Isla felt the acceleration of her broom as she was gaining more speed, and the wind against her face made Phineas and Ursula's contempt seem utterly unimportant. She concentrated on the task at hand. She examined her antagonists: Alexander Rosier seemed extremely relaxed and awfully sure of himself, Caracactus Burke was looking sideways in his direction, Frederick Fawley looked very anxious and Sean Blishwick was already sweating. Isla's attention was then fixed to Greengrass, who was about to release the Snitch. And the Snitch was out.

Isla began circling the pitch in order to get a glimpse of the small golden ball. She kept an eye on the other players as well, in case one of them noticed it before she did. She continued swooshing around at great speed for a long time, when she saw a glimmering light near the furthest set of goal baskets. Burke was watching her closely; he was nearer the Snitch than she was. She spun around, and began accelerating in the opposite direction. Burke instantly followed, and, before long, all five were zooming towards the other end of the pitch. Isla, having almost reached the scoring area, dived suddenly, and pulled out turning in the direction of the Snitch. It was gone. Wind blew in her ears as she increased speed, and searched frantically. She soon spotted it, just over the stands. This time she went directly for it, without caring if anyone followed. Her palms grasped her broom tighter and they began to sweat, as adrenaline rushed through her body. She detached her right hand from the broom, and caught the Snitch, just as another extended arm appeared on her right.

She could hardly believe it, but there it was, the Snitch, fluttering inside her sweaty palm. She landed in front of the rest of the team, and Greengrass came towards her.

"Congratulations, Miss Black, you are the new Seeker of the team. Well done."

"I thought you needn't worry", said Gamp.

"Well, I hardly believed I would..." said Isla, looking amazed at the Snitch, still clasped in her hand.

"My dear Isla, congratulations!"

Before she knew it, Sophia, Duilius, Ursula and Phineas were all around her congratulating her. Phineas looked pleased with her, and that was the most important praise for Isla.

For the first time in many years, more than she could immediately count, she felt whole, untainted and, dare she say it? Happy, genuinely happy.

* * *

_Hogwarts, 8 September 1864_

_Dear Mother,_

_I write to inform you that I have been selected to play Seeker on the Quidditch team. I hope you and Father are pleased. Cousin Duilius also joined the team as Beater._

_Elladora greatly enjoys herself, though with her OWLs next year, she finds classes more difficult in comparison with last year. She will be fine, I trust. She sends her love and promises to write soon._

_Phineas is very pleased with his duties as Head Boy, and works hard for his NEWTs. But I expect you learn about him from Father._

_I hope you are both in good health._

_Your daughter,_

_Isla_

Isla's parents were not displeased, as her getting into the Slytherin Quidditch team could only bring honor to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black; but they weren't proud of her either, for she was a daughter, and she was expected to do as she was told. She had not consulted her parents on trying out for the Quidditch team, and that caused more displeasure than her success had caused pride.

Isla tried to ignore the growing pain in her chest due to her parents' complete indifference in her. She could hardly expect anything else, she kept telling herself. That was how they always treated her, why should their behavior change now? She had hoped, though, that something might change. Obviously, her hopes had been dashed in vain. She swallowed her sadness, and ignored her pain, secretly wondering whether she could go on like this forever.

* * *

Generally, Isla was not such a devoted student, but everyone around her seemed to have decided to focus on their studies. She therefore could not afford to be distracted, and managed to concentrate without too much difficulty on her school work. She immersed herself in training, which was proving quite demanding under Greengrass, and the immense amount of homework assignments. Indeed, she had little time to do anything else; the library and the Quidditch pitch were the places she frequented the most. Transfiguration, in specific, was particularly difficult, since the curriculum in sixth year included human transformations. Despite the Outstanding she achieved on her OWL, and some natural inclination towards that subject, it demanded great effort to keep a good level. But Transfiguration was the only subject she genuinely enjoyed, and she gladly did all the extra homework that Professor Williams gave them.

With so much work, time flew by without her realizing, and November was soon upon her, cold and wet. As the first Quidditch match of the season, Slytherin versus Hufflepuff, loomed nearer, the day did not seem to have enough hours. She had Quidditch practice three times a week, and she dedicated most of her energy on that: she had to win her first Quidditch match, especially against Hufflepuff.

On the eve of the match, she was sitting in the library, staring blankly at a Herbology essay on the Venomous Tentacula she was supposed to be correcting. A storm was raging outside, and Isla let out a long sigh as a bolt of lightning struck outside the window. If the weather remained like this, it would be impossible to find the Snitch. She suddenly felt very anxious. What if she failed? What if she didn't catch the Snitch, and prove a disappointment to everyone who had believed in her, and, most importantly, to Phineas? She could not stand his cruel and mocking expression should she fail.

Sophia was writing frantically an essay on Arithmancy, and Ursula was buried in a huge tome entitled "Palmistry". Ursula was having trouble with her classes, because she had taken on more subjects than she could handle. It was true, Sophia had also taken quite a few subjects, but she could discipline herself to work hard, and, being the best student in their year, was thriving under the pressure of the NEWT-level classes. Indeed, Isla was amazed at how well she was doing, and was very proud of her friend, a feeling she kept to herself. Being a Slytherin, everyone, and especially Phineas, expected her to antagonize Sophia, and work harder in order to surpass her. But she resented her in no way, and would never dream of trying to overcome her. Ursula, on the other hand, threw Sophia the most envious looks, as she was writing effortlessly an essay on the most difficult subject Hogwarts offered.

"I hope you feel prepared for tomorrow's game, cousin" came Duilius' voice from behind Isla. He sat next to her.

"I am afraid this wretched weather will hold", he continued looking out of the window.

"Well, it cannot be helped. We will do our best whatever the weather is. Besides, these are the conditions we have been training in. We should be fine", said Isla.

"Of course you will", said Sophia. "Mr Greengrass has had you train very hard over the last two months."

"True. But, unfortunately, the same goes for Hufflepuff", said Duilius.

Isla felt once more anxiety rise in her. She excused herself, and went to the dormitory to sleep. At first, she could not rest, and was constantly rolling in the sheets, but after half an hour or so, she succumbed to tiredness, and fell asleep.

* * *

Once again, she was running barefooted on a beautiful meadow, with the sun shining bright in the sky. The beloved boy was laughing in front of her, and, as he realized that she was gaining on him, he squeaked in surprise, and jumped into the stream that ran across one side of the meadow.

"Sirius, NO!", Isla screamed.

She threw her eyes open. She was lying in her four-poster, her sheets twisted about her, and her night gown damp with sweat. She realized immediately she had actually screamed, and was relieved that neither Ursula nor Sophia had awoken. She laid back, and tried to calm herself. She drifted once more to an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Isla could hardly feel her stomach as she stepped out of the changing rooms onto the Quidditch pitch. The storm was still raging, and, before they could reach the centre of the pitch, they were soaked. The captains shook hands, Mr Castle, the referee, blew his whistle, and all fourteen players rose from the ground.

The rain was heavy, and Isla could hardly see through it. She took out her wand, pointed it to her face and muttered "Impervius". That did the trick: the water was now repelled from her face. She began circling the pitch at a great height, hoping to get a glimpse of the Snitch, but in vain. She moved lower, but still, she saw no sign of the small golden ball. The wind was roaring, and she could just manage to keep her broom on course. A bludger with great speed came her way, and, as she was preparing to dive, Icarus Slughorn, the other Slytherin Beater, sent it towards a Hufflepuff Chaser. At the same time, Gamp scored a goal. Isla looked at the score. It was 50-40 for Slytherin. Hufflepuff were playing hard. She accelerated, and strained her eyes for the Snitch. And then she caught sight of the Hufflepuff Seeker.

He was flying upwards with great speed, and, as Isla followed his direction, she saw the Snitch. It was now moving again, towards her. She accelerated, as the Hufflepuff Seeker was gaining great speed and was moving towards her. She increased her speed. The rain and the wind had made her body numb with cold, but she scarcely noticed. She was almost there, but the other Seeker was nearer. She gave a final push on her broom, freed her hand from the broom, and reached for the Snitch. The two Seekers were bound to collide, when Isla's hand closed over the Snitch, and, with her other hand, pulled to a dive in order to avoid the other player. She landed, and only then did she fully appreciate the frantic fluttering she felt on her cold, wet hand. She had caught the Snitch. She let out a great sigh of relief that no one heard over the roaring of the wind, as the rest of the team landed around her. Julia Lestrange went so far as to hug her, but the others were content with shaking her hand. Duilius was the warmest in his congratulations, and Gamp seemed pretty happy with her too. Greengrass, having won his first game as Captain, was beside himself with joy, but gave little credit to anyone else other than himself.

* * *

As soon as all the team had changed into dry robes, they returned to the common room, where festivities were taking place to celebrate the victory. Isla sat in her favourite corner with a glass of butterbeer in her hand, as she heard Phineas say:

"Yes, Isla has a great talent in flying. Ah, yes, we Blacks are natural flyers. Indeed, for years I have tried to convince her to join the team, but she would not listen! Oh no, I have no ambition in Quidditch, schoolwork and my duties as Head Boy have completely engrossed me, though I enjoy flying prodigiously."

She could not justify it, but she felt very annoyed at Phineas' words. Hadn't this whole effort been to prove to Phineas and her parents that she was good at something, and that she deserved their attention? Her own brother was trying to take credit for her hard work, for her skill. She immediately realized her folly. It was of little consequence that she was actually a good flyer. All that mattered was that now Phineas had more proof that being a Black made you almost royal. They were intelligent, good-looking, succesful, rich, and, as Isla had kindly proven, good Quidditch players. Inexplicably, she felt disgusted.

"Well, congratulations, Isla" came Ursula's voice, cold and sneering, mercifully snapping her rebellious train of thought.

"Thank you, Ursula, you are very kind. I hope you no longer doubt my flying abilities."

"Not in the least", she said with a fire dancing in her eyes. She had never been praised as Isla was being praised that day, and she could hardly stand it.

Sophia came and sat next to her. Her eyes were on Duilius, who was laughing whole-heartedly with a couple of friends.

"Shall I ask him to join us next week?", inquired Isla half-glancing at her.

"Do you think he will come?" Sophia blushed a deep crimson. "Invite who? Where?"

"Duilius, of course, on the first Hogsmeade visit!"

"Well... Him being your cousin, it would hardly be inappropriate, would it?"

"Of course not."

Isla smiled; at least she could depend on Sophia and Duilius to make her feel human once in a while.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Christmas with the Maxes

The heavy rain continued for a few weeks, before it turned into biting cold and strong wind. By the middle of December, the whole school grounds were covered in snow, the Great Hall was decorated with the usual twelve Christmas trees, and mistletoe was hanging in every corridor. Peeves took to hiding in suits of armor, frightening the younger students by singing altered carols of his own devise, none of which were for the benefit of the listener. Every occupant of the castle seemed more cheerful than usual, and were more tolerant towards each other. Christmas had this effect on the school, and everyone in it. Isla's soul glowed at the peace and contentment that the season brought, though none of this warm and genuinely humane mood that seemed to preside over Hogwarts would be present at home.

Even though Isla preferred to pass as much time as possible in the castle, this year she was glad to be spending the holidays at Number 12, Grimauld Place. The Malfoys' Christmas Eve Ball would be her first outing in society, and she was rather looking forward to it. Phineas always spoke with great fascination about balls and parties, and the Malfoys were sure to give the grandest. True, from his description, they sounded a good deal boring, but Isla hoped they would not prove to be as such. She was glad to have a reason to be excited and impatient to return home, for she usually did not; this new sensation was not unpleasant.

Ursula hardly spoke of anything else than the Ball the days before the term ended. She was already discussing the dress robes that would be tailored especially for the occasion. Isla was not the girl to endlessly talk about clothes, but her friends' excitement was contagious, and she too started thinking about dress robes, jewelry and matching witches' hats.

When she arrived home, she realized that her mother had done nothing to buy, let alone tailor, dress robes for her. Isla felt a slight pang of disappointment in her chest, but she immediately repelled it. It was not wholly surprising that no one seemed to mind her needs, even if tailored robes of the highest quality with the family crest and motto embroidered on the chest awaited Phineas. She had to go to Diagon Alley by herself to find suitable clothes for the Ball. However, when she came to think of it, she preferred it this way, since she could buy the gown of her choice instead of one selected by her mother. She found a beautiful set of deep purple taffeta robes, that complimented her light figure greatly. The family vault was full of ancient, goblin-made jewelry, and as soon as she bought matching shoes for her new robes, she went directly to Gringotts in order to collect the jewelry her mother would be wearing, and to choose what she pleased to suit her gown.

Standing in front of the mirror on Christmas Eve, Isla had a good deal of difficulty believing that the Slytherin Seeker, with usually windswept hair from flying, was in fact the girl staring back at her, dressed in magnificent purple robes, with a neat bun at the back of her head, suspended with the help of pearl hairpins, and beautiful pearl earrings gracefully hanging from her ears. Her father called her from the hall, and she hurried out of the room and down the stairs to where he was.

"Ah, Isla. You look beautiful", he said barely noticing his daughter.

"Thank you, father."

"As tonight is your first formal outing in society, I had this made for you." He presented a small golden ring to her, with the Black crest and motto engraved. Phineas wore precisely the same ring on his right hand, a present from their father on his fifteenth birthday: the day he could officially join in social events. "Remember, you are a Black, and you should wear this with pride and dignity until the day you get married."

"You are most kind, sir" she said as she placed the ring on her smallest finger of her right hand. "Thank you" she bowed.

Phineas and Mrs Black soon came, and the family was ready to leave. Elladora was very upset to be left behind, but nothing could be done. They apparated to Malfoy Manor, Isla alongside Phineas, as she was still under 17.

"You look stunning, sister" commented Phineas as he gave her his arm.

"Why, thank you, Phineas. You needn't be so amazed. I am a Black, after all. I am not as handsome as Elladora, certainly, or yourself, but I hope I have inherited some of the family charm."

"Of course you have."

Before Isla had a chance to reply, she felt Phineas turn on the spot, and darkness consumed her.

They arrived, the introductions were made, and Isla was at last allowed to roam freely in the packed and richly decorated ballroom. Velvet curtains hung around the windows, and luxurious gold torches, circled by wreaths of mistletoe, were perched up the wood-paneled walls. A magnificent chandelier graced with crystals hung from the tall ceiling. Snow had been enchanted to slowly fall from the ceiling and disappear before it reached the heads of the guests. At first, Isla was in awe of the sight in front of her, but it soon became tiring for the eye.

As she made her way through the crowd, searching for her friends, her father's somber and feelingless voice rang in her ears, shutting out the noises of conversation and the soft whisper of expensive fabrics brushing on the wooden floor. _Wear it with pride and dignity._ Suddenly the ring's weight was immeasurable, and Isla felt an irresistible urge to relieve her hand of the unbearable burden by taking it off. Thankfully, at that moment she saw Sophia and Ursula, grasping goblets of wine, waving at her, and she moved towards them, removing her left hand from the ring. Sophia looked even more beautiful than usual, in her light blue dress robes, but Ursula, even though her robes were far more expensive than Sophia's and her jewelry was exquisite, resembled an overdressed ugly duckling by comparison. The chamber orchestra positioned in the far end of the ballroom began playing a waltz, and partners of all sorts were soon craving their hands.

The whole evening passed in refined conversation, another phrase for meaningless exchange of vicious gossip, and dancing. The latter was the only part Isla enjoyed; while dancing, at least, her body was occupied instead of standing in a useless manner, and she could relieve her ears by focusing on the music. She found her partners rather dull, to be sure, with the exception of Duilius: Phineas was too self-absorbed, Burke was constantly tripping on her robes or feet, and the youngest Malfoy, the only unmarried son of the family, looked simply idiotic and barely opened his mouth. Gamp was not altogether disagreeable-he did make an attempt at pleasant, intelligent conversation-but his manner was supercilious, and he kept describing how huge his father's estate was. Isla was tired of hearing about grand estates, extravagantly furnished, with grounds covering miles of fertile land. After all, she lived in a town Manor herself, and she had a suspicion that, no matter how eloquently Gamp talked of his father's wealth, it was nothing compared to the Malfoys' or their own.

The evening was reasonably enjoyable, though Isla saw that such gatherings scarcely deserved the high praise they received from Phineas. It was soothing to have her parents notice her, though, even if it was only for an evening and directed by purely selfish motives. Sadness filled her as her mother helped her undress, for she realized that she was a doll in her hands, to be paraded around, like a prize at a fare, to be thrust to the highest bidder. She was disgusted with herself for continuously seeking the approval of people who would use her simply to enhance their position in society. She had always known that this was to be her future. Finish school, get married to a rich pure-blood, and never question why or dream of a different life. That was how they did things, and she had always accepted it, without a moment's thought; that was all she had learned to hope for. She shook the feeling off quickly. Such thoughts would not do. She was a Black, and a Slytherin, and she would go through life honored, with her head high, upholding the dignity of her family. At least, that was what her father had taught her to want and to strive to achieve.

* * *

On Christmas day, the Blacks were invited to a family dinner at the Maxes. Isla had not been at her uncle's house for quite a few years, and she was looking forward to dine with his family. Phineas was most unwilling to attend, but he had no choice in the matter, as father pointed out that Mr Max was "your mother's brother, and an honorable, well-respected member of high society".

The Maxes' home was nothing like any other home Isla had ever visited. Decorated for the holidays, with light in abundance to illuminate the rooms, and the unmistakable smell of delicious food baking in the oven, it reminded her greatly of Hogwarts. It emitted a glow of happiness, that was sadly lacking in Number 12, eternally dark and cold.

Her uncle and aunt gave them the most warm welcome, which her parents and Phineas returned with cold and impersonal formality. This did not hinder their cheerfulness in the least, nor did it suppress their smiles, and Isla could hardly resist treating them with the same cordiality. Her father seemed utterly perplexed at her unreserved and merry behavior, so unusual in her, but said nothing.

Isla had not seen her older cousins in quite some time; soon, she was exchanging news with them excitedly, and chatter, accompanied by laughter, filled the drawing room. The Max family was extremely friendly towards her, and all awkwardness that a lengthy separation had brought was quickly dissolved. She had the strangest experience while waiting for dinner to be announced: she felt accepted for herself, for Isla, her character and her skills, and not for being a Black. She hastily pushed such revolutionary thoughts out of her mind. She was a Black, it was part of her, perhaps the greatest and most important, inseparable from the rest of her personality.

Duilius sat next to her at dinner, and the two of them scarcely talked to anyone else during the whole of the meal.

"How did you enjoy last night's ball, cousin? It was your first one, I understand."

"Yes. I enjoyed the dancing, but hardly anything else, I must confess."

"Well, it is a miracle you liked even that, seeing how your poor feet must have been squashed to dust by Mr Burke." Isla laughed heartily, and felt her father's keen gaze fixed upon her.

"But you are an accomplished dancer, cousin Isla" said Duilius, and he was in earnest. "As is Miss Prince", he added, seemingly absorbed in slicing a piece of turkey.

Isla could hardly suppress a smile: Duilius had danced all night, and with the exception of three or four dances, his partner had invariably been Sophia. She lifted her gaze, and saw her father looking intently at her, with an unreadable expression set on his stony face. She had done nothing reproachable or wrong, so she boldly stared back at him. He slowly lowered his glass from his lips, and engaged Cornelia, his eldest niece, in conversation.

The rest of the evening passed with the same warm and sincere feeling residing in Isla's chest, a feeling she experienced only whilst flying over the Hogwarts grounds, or when absentmindedly observing other students chatting carelessly in the Great Hall. Phineas was in a foul mood, though he managed to keep it to himself for the whole of the evening, and Isla was grateful that he hid his displeasure and annoyance. She daren't thank him, as he would surely release all his anger at her.

Christmas Day passed by too quickly for Isla's liking, but night had progressed and it was soon time to return home. Her parents and Phineas were glad it was over, but Isla wished she could have clung on those happy moments for longer than just a few hours. Content, however, she left the loving home of her cousins, and when they arrived at Number 12, and every one went to bed, she stayed up for a long time savoring the delight that a simple family dinner had inexplicably brought her. When she finally fell asleep, a broad smile was stretched on her face, and, for once, pleasant dreams came to her in Grimauld Place before the crack of dawn.

* * *

A ray of light managed to get through the heavy curtains and waked Isla on Boxing Day. It was her favorite way to awaken, an experience she never had at Hogwarts, as the windows of the Slytherin dormitory looked out at the bottom of the lake, and the most interesting thing to be found there was the Giant Squid, or an occasional grindylow. It was, perhaps, the only thing she genuinely enjoyed at home. While preparing to join her family at breakfast, Godam, the house-elf, entered her room.

"Beg pardon, miss" he bowed low, "but Master wishes a word with you in his study before breakfast."

Isla nodded. "Tell him I will come directly."

"Very well, miss" Godam bowed even lower.

Perplexed, she left her room, straightening her robes. What could her father want with her so early in the morning? She had done nothing wrong, surely. Not that she was aware of, in any case. She paused outside her father's study, breathed deeply and softly knocked, as fear settled in her stomach.

"Enter" came her father's calm voice.

"Good morning, father. You asked to see me" she said as soon as she closed the door behind her.

"Yes. Sit."

She sat, more nervous than ever. This would be a long conversation, then.

"Well, Isla, I have noticed over the past two days an intimacy between yourself and your cousin Duilius. Phineas has several times written in his letters of your spending a considerable amount of time in his company. He also communicated that you were accompanied by Duilius on a Hogsmeade visit. Elladora confirms all of these facts. I ought to tell you that he would be graciously received as a suitor. He is, after all, family, of pure blood, and his situation, with a prudent choice of career, could infinitely improve. You could do much better, to be sure, but your preference will not be frowned upon, I assure you."

"Sir, I thank you for your concern, but I must put you at ease immediately. I am extremely fond of cousin Duilius, and I enjoy his company prodigiously, but not in the way that you or Phineas seem to think. There is no kind of attachment, let alone understanding, between us, and I can assure you that our feelings towards each other are those of friendship and esteem. Nothing more."

Mr Black pierced her with his intense black eyes, but she did not lower her gaze. After a while, he broke the silence.

"I cannot deny that I am slightly relieved. Duilius seems an agreeable young man, but I feel that his faith in the pure-blood society is less than one would hope for, and he is not the eldest son, therefore his fortune will be limited. He would have been accepted, of course, had he been your choice, but I am pleased that he is not. You could do much better. You could find a wealthier husband. However, I think it is inappropriate for you to be seen in his company much, as it would discourage other suitors to pursue you."

"Let me quiet your worries once and for all, sir. I believe that Duilius has formed an attachment for my friend, Sophia Prince, and I believe that she returns his affections most earnestly. If he accompanies me, he does it mostly due to Miss Prince, and because we are _friends_. Anyone can see that all his attentions are for Miss Prince, and that he scarcely directs more than our family connection or friendship require towards myself."

He was startled by her honesty and the fervor with which she spoke. Mr Black could hardly doubt her.

"Very well. I am satisfied" he said leaning back on his luxurious wooden chair. "I was pleased to see you dance with young Jason Malfoy", he continued after a short pause, examining his daughter carefully. "He seems a very engaging young man."

"Quite", replied Isla, looking away from her father's face.

"And Andronicus Gamp. I understand that he is on the Quidditch team."

"Indeed. He is an excellent Chaser. He ought to have been made Captain, but Mr Greengrass was favored over him."

Mr Black raised an eyebrow, and a hint of a smile appeared at the corners of his mouth. Pleased with the outcome of the conversation, he dismissed her shortly afterwards. But Isla, instead of going to the dining room to breakfast with the rest of her family, she returned hastily to her room. The very thought that Duilius would have been merely acceptable on the grounds of his reduced circumstances as a second son, angered her. But the thought that she was to be flung at the man offering the highest position in society and the largest dowry, simply infuriated her. The same feeling of helplessness that had consumed her at the night of the ball returned as she realized once more that she was nothing more than an object, a means of advancing the Black family in society, and that all that she had been made to expect and to want were actually going to happen. She paced up and down her room without really thinking what she was doing. At last, she threw herself on an armchair, and let out a long, deep sigh. Once again, she found herself astonished at the way she was being treated by her family, and yet, nothing had changed, and nothing was far from what she had been taught to expect. She directed her glance over her bed, where the Black Family crest was painted on the wall. _Toujurs Pur_ read the motto underneath it. Collecting herself, she got up and made her way towards the dining room. Enough rebellion. She needed to get back to her normal self, the one that did not ask uncomfortable questions, or disregard all common sense.

_Toujurs Pur_, she murmured under her breath.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Mudblood

The rest of the holidays passed very quickly for Isla: more dinner parties and balls succeeded the one the Malfoys' gave on Christmas Eve, and still, the only part of them that had any appeal to her was dancing. Phineas, Elladora and Isla spent most of their time studying. Alarming as the amount of homework was for Elladora, Phineas would not help her, so Isla assisted her in completing her assignments satisfactorily, in addition to her own work and Quidditch practice. With so little time between studying, tutoring her sister, Quidditch and social events, the holidays flew by, and Isla found herself within no time on the Hogwarts Express, returning to school. Her bliss was beyond imagination, as she beheld the castle when she disembarked from the train.

No sooner had the term began than Greengrass booked the pitch for Quidditch practice. As the next match drew nearer, the whole team seemed worried and grim. It was, after all, the game that could result to their losing or winning the Cup, and Gryffindor, against whom they were playing, was no easy foe to defeat. Tension between the players increased, and arguments took up most of the training. Isla tried hard not to participate or take sides, but Greengrass was increasingly demanding and short with her. Her skill had raised the team's hopes, but no one was foolish enough to believe that she was above fear against Gryffindor.

While Sophia and Duilius strived to lift her spirits and boost her confidence, Ursula did all in her power to crush any thought of victory. A week before the match, she made Isla boil with anger, and lose the little courage she still had in her skill and hard work. At lunch, as Isla stated that she could not join her and Sophia to the library after class, due to training, she said:

"My dear Isla, I hope you will not regret your decision to join the team. I feel that the intense practice and pressure are getting the better of you: it is, in the end, a _man's_ game, one that we, daughters of prestigious families, should have nothing to do with. I earnestly hope that you will not make a fool of yourself next week. After all, Aidan Longbottom is a superb Seeker."

Isla nearly spilled the jug of pumpkin juice she was holding down her robes. However, she managed to compose herself.

"Why, I thank you for your concern my _dear _Ursula, you are most thoughtful, but, believe me, you needn't worry on my account. I have not for a moment doubted Mr Longbottom's skill, nor have I underestimated the abilities of the Gryffindor team. You will permit me, however, to have a little more faith in my own endeavors. After all, one who does not try is forever doomed to fail, while one who tries has even the smallest chance of success."

Sophia was looking anxiously from Ursula to Isla. Isla rose, her plate half-empty, and left the Great Hall. As soon as she reached the top of the Marble staircase, she broke into a run, and stopped only when she reached the Runes classroom, which thankfully was still empty.

She paced up and down the room with her fists clenched, her nails sinking in her palm. Perhaps Ursula had meant well. No, she had not. And Isla could not stand her bitter remarks. Perhaps she should have been used to them by now, but to think that anyone could utter such spiteful words, and in her face too, was unfathomable to her. Suddenly, she heard the door creak behind her, and she realized that someone had entered the room.

"Oh, I am sorry, I did not wish to intrude" came a booming voice from the threshold of the room. A tall boy, with brown, curly hair, bright blue eyes and a long, thin nose was standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob, and looking surprised to find the classroom occupied.

"N-no, please, come in, Mr Hitchens", said Isla, recovering from the shock, as the boy made to close the door. "I apologize."

"Not at all, Miss Black" said Hitchens, amazed to be addressed thus by Isla Black, a girl he had been in the same class with for nearly six years, but had never spoken to. Indeed, he had rarely heard her speak to anyone, except a handful of Slytherins, and was astonished to find that she knew his name. For the first time, he noticed her properly: she looked tired and annoyed. He smiled kindly at her.

"I hope you are not having a bad day", he said, wanting to comfort her, but he regretted doing so instantly.

Upon hearing his words, she immediately corrected her posture, and now stood in front of him, head held high in the air, with a solemn expression.

"Mr Hitchens, I do not believe that you are sufficiently acquainted with me_. _Therefore, you cannot assume to understand my disposition or my mood, much less pronounce verdict as to whether my day has been _bad_ or _good_."

She was absolutely terrifying for a person with such a small frame. All the anger she felt for Ursula was now bubbling up, ready to explode on this poor, innocent Ravenclaw.

"Of course I am not. Please excuse my interference" he said hurriedly.

"You will kindly refrain from such remarks", her voice was rising to dangerous heights, "and keep out of other people's business!"

"Of course. So sorry" he said in a hurried manner. He was staggering backwards in the face of her wrath, unable to understand what he had done to provoke her so.

Thankfully, the bell rang at that moment, and as the rest of the class entered the room, Isla was forced to let it rest and be seated. Professor Selwyn, a small, nervous witch stumbled into the classroom, and silence fell as the lesson began, due more to boredom than attention or respect for the subject. For the whole hour, Hitchens threw scared glances in Isla's direction, but she was persistently staring at the front, with a stony expression on her face. She was trying to calm herself from her sudden outburst, and ere long she realized that Hitchens had done nothing to offend or anger her. Ursula had the monopoly of provoking such emotions in Isla.

After class, she held him back for a moment.

"Mr Hitchens, I was rude to you before. I vented my anger on you unjustly. I apologize."

If the muggle-born wizard had been astonished an hour ago, what he felt as Isla spoke those words could hardly be described. He assured her that all was fine, and that he bore her no ill-will, and she disappeared, leaving him dumbfound.

* * *

Isla could hear her stomach lurch, as she changed into her Quidditch robes the morning of the game. Greengrass pressed the importance of winning the match one last time, and they all made their way onto the pitch. The sun was shinning, but the wind blew cold against their faces. The captains shook hands, with a little more force than was strictly necessary, and all fourteen players mounted their brooms, as Mr Castle blew his whistle.

Gryffindor where playing to win, and with a large difference, to ensure that they were well ahead the rest of the Houses on the Cup. That much became evident the first five minutes of the game, when the first goal was scored by a very handsome Gryffindor Chaser. Half an hour into the game, Slytherin was losing with a difference of 50 points. The scarlet and gold end of the stands was erupting with cheers, and poor Miss Lestrange was almost in tears. Greengrass passed Isla in great speed, his face contorted with rage.

Isla was roused from simply watching the game, and speeded off to locate the Snitch. It took her another half hour to find the golden ball. Once she thought Longbottom had seen something, but she distracted him, so he could not pursue it. But now, there it was, moving towards the ground. She looked around: Longbottom was far away and not even looking in her direction. She dived, and, moments before she crashed on the floor, she pulled out of the dive, waving her hand triumphantly: the Snitch was in her clasp.

* * *

Spring came, and as the temperature rose, so did the expectations of the Slytherin Quidditch team for the Cup. The team's good cooperation and Isla's success so far made all Slytherins hopeful. As Ravenclaw smashed Gryffindor, the last match would decide the winner of that year's Cup. Greengrass devised extreme training sessions, after which the whole team could barely stand for exhaustion. He was giving Isla particular attention, as the best outcome they could hope for was a quick catch of the Snitch, to end the game cleanly. He stressed her with almost daily practice, and was very harsh on her should she make a mistake.

As schoolwork was not static, and Isla was perpetually crammed with deadlines for assignments, sleep seemed a luxury that she could not afford to waste time on. She was constantly tired, and anxiety was a permanent state of mind for her during the month before the Quidditch final. Sophia was trying to help her, by checking her homework, and Duilius warned Greengrass not to wear her out, but everyone was assured that "Miss Black could handle the pressure. After all, she needed to be in good shape for the match."

All Slytherins had placed their hopes entirely on her shoulders, and Isla found the sudden weight and attention given to her unbearable. Tired as she was, wearied with anxiety, her temper became shorter than usual, and on the day of the match, she was in a downright awful mood. She had spent the previous night talking tactics with Greengrass in the common room after practice, and as she changed into her Quidditch robes, she greatly feared lest she should faint on her broom for want of proper sleep.

But out she went, and the game began. The weather was wet, as spring showers had begun the previous week, and soon she was drenched and numb with cold. She flied twice the length of the pitch, but saw nothing. She soon realized that she could hardly focus on anything, big or small, properly. After an hour or so of pointless flying around, Greengrass flied past her in great speed.

"Miss Black, GET A MOVE ON AND CATCH THE DAMNED SNITCH!", he shouted.

Isla looked at the score: Ravenclaw was tied with Slytherin. Panic rose in her, as the waves do on the stormy sea, almost drowning her. She swirled around and accelerated on the opposite direction, searching in vain for the little golden ball that would save Slytherin.

Suddenly, her eyes spotted the Ravenclaw Seeker: he was flying towards the Slytherin goal posts. Isla realized what was happening. Without thinking, she rushed after him, but she was too far behind him. As she gained on him, he detached his hand from his broom, and caught the Snitch.

It was over. Ravenclaw had won the game. And Isla had failed.

The Ravenclaw team did a lap of honor, and landed near the Slytherin team. Professor Fortescue, along with Professor Bennet, a young, pretty witch, Head of Ravenclaw House, and other teachers, made his way towards them, and gave the Quidditch Cup to the Ravenclaw Captain. He raised it high in the air, and the blue and bronze mass in the stands exploded with joyous cheers, which managed to be heard through the downpour.

Greengrass looked murderous. He turned to Isla.

"We need not blame anyone else but you, Miss Black. If you had focused on the game, and followed the tactics we discussed last night, that cup would have been ours!" He could barely keep his voice down.

"So much for your _flying skills_" came Phineas sneering voice in her ear. "Greengrass was a fool for letting you on the team. But now he knows, and his successor will rectify his error, hopefully."

Rain was pouring down, and Isla was wet, and cold, and humiliated. She turned to meet her brother's mean face. Beside him stood Ursula with a wicked and spiteful smile etched on her face.

"Well, my dear Isla, you managed to make a fool of yourself with _Ravenclaw_. How disappointing, and yet revealing, for those who believed in your so called _talent_."

Sophia looked sadly at Isla, but said nothing in her defense. Isla's humiliation was not at an end, though. Nearby stood two Ravenclaw boys, watching in alarm and shock, as Greengrass approached her once more.

"Of course, I blame Gamp for encouraging you to try out in the first place, but _you_ should learn your place and not mess with things best left to _men_. You have made our team the laughing stock of Hogwarts. I put you on the team AND YOU DESTROYED OUR ONE CHANCE TO WIN THE CUP!"

The two boys, whom Isla recognized as Bob Hitchens and the Ravenclaw Seeker, Paul Kirkpatrick, came closer and spoke to Greengrass.

"Mr Greengrass, don't be too harsh on the lady. She has done her best, despite her obvious fatigue. Miss Black should see the matron, she has been looking dreadful all week", said Hitchens, and Kirkpatrick nodded.

"No one asked for your help, _mudblood_", snarled Isla.

The rain pounded on everyone's ears, suddenly deafening. Everyone within earshot froze. Sophia looked alarmed, Ursula astonished, and Phineas raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. They might use the word quite frequently, but only inside the confinement of their homes or the Slytherin common room. Isla herself could hardly believe she had uttered it out loud. Hitchens' blue eyes sparkled with rage, and beside him Kirkpatrick looked as if he had just seen a dragon.

"TAKE THAT BACK, BLACK" bellowed Hitchens drawing his wand.

Isla did the same instinctively. But before either of them could do anything more, a Shield Charm knocked them both off their feet.

The silence that ensued, disturbed only by the raindrops hitting the surface of the earth and the seemingly distant celebrations of the Ravenclaws, was smashed by Professor Williams.

"Both of you, in my office. NOW."

* * *

_Author's Note: I bet you didn't see that one coming!  
Just wanted to say thanks for reading, and that I hope you're enjoying it!  
Don't forget to leave a review! All criticism helps improve the story!_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Sorting Hat's Choice

Isla had never seen Professor Williams look so furious. A middle-aged man, with a towering, stout figure, long brown hair and a short beard, he had a serene countenance that was now contorted with rage, and a line had appeared across his forehead. She and Hitchens scurried behind him, and, when they reached his office, they stood gingerly near the door, as he leaned on the mantelpiece.

"Mr Hitchens, 20 points will be taken from Ravenclaw, and you will receive a week's detention. Nothing, I repeat _nothing_, justifies such behavior towards a fellow student, least of all a lady. Miss Black, 50 points from Slytherin, and you will receive a _month's_ detention. Now, you will apologize to each other, and Mr Hitchens, you will kindly leave us."

After a swift "I am sorry", Hitchens left the room. As soon as the door closed, Professor Williams fixed his gaze upon Isla.

"Miss Black, I must confess myself _greatly_ disappointed in you." He was no longer shouting, and that made Isla feel absolutely miserable. "I never imagined you capable of such behavior. I know full well your family and their opinions on blood status, but I thought you knew better than that."

"How so, sir? I am a Black, and a Slytherin. Why assume I would be different from my family? Why assume I would even _want_ to be different from them?" It was easier to pretend she had done nothing wrong.

"Miss Black, please do not insult my intelligence. You know as well as I do that you are not the same as them. And you have not been since they started neglecting you. Since your brother's death." His gaze pierced Isla across the room.

Silence fell and the air felt stiflingly still in the room.

"How did you know?" Isla managed to whisper. She had forgotten she was talking to a muggle-born teacher.

"Miss Black, professors might seem indifferent to their students' personal lives, but the truth is that we understand more than is at first apparent. I have always taken a keen interest in you, not only because you have been one of the most talented students in Transfiguration I have ever taught. Students with a background like yours tend to be in the centre of attention, either by their provoking behavior, their ambition, or their academic achievements. You have never sought attention, you have always been content to stay in the shadow of your brother, and even your younger sister. And you seem to forget that you were a near hatstall."

"But the Sorting Hat chose Slytherin. It placed me in Slytherin. I am a Black. My place is with the pure-blood society of Slytherin."

"Miss Black, the Sorting Hat is known to delay its decision for two reasons: either the person is well-suited in two Hogwarts Houses, or the hatstall does not agree with the Hat's decision, in which case he or she tries to alter it. Now, I cannot see _any_ Slytherin traits in you. You are _not_ ambitious, and you most certainly _would not_ do anything to achieve your goal."

"I AM a Slytherin!", shouted Isla. "I would do-I _will _do-anything to achieve my ambition!"

"Really? And what _is_ your ambition exactly?"

Isla was shocked. What was her ambition? Did she even have an ambition?

"I-I... I do not know yet."

"Is that so? Well, take Miss Flint, for example. Ever since she laid eyes on your brother, her goal has been to marry him. As for Miss Prince? Well, she might not be your average Slytherin student in some ways, I grant you, but she has ambition, and that is to conceal her sensitivities, and be a respected member of the pure-blood society, even if that means losing you as a friend. Why else would she keep company with Miss Flint? Every single Slytherin of your age has set a goal in life and is using any means available to achieve it. Your own brother, for Merlin's sake, the most ambitious student Hogwarts has seen in a century, strives every single moment of the day to advance his position in society, be it in the form of a promising career or a wealthy wife of noble birth. You must have realized that the reason he is less than fond of you is that he sees you do not care to advance your influence or popularity. You feel you are the most peculiar student in the Slytherin common room, and that is perfectly justifiable, because you are not like the rest of them."

Silence fell as Professor Williams' words washed over Isla.

"Now", he said in a calm voice, "can you look me in the eyes and tell me that the Hat sorted you into Slytherin of its own accord?"

Isla looked at her professor, and she realized she could not deceive him; what was more, she could not even deceive herself anymore.

"No", she whispered, looking away, "it wanted to sort me in Hufflepuff, but I persuaded it to put me in Slytherin."

It was the first time she had said this to anyone. It was also the first time that she had allowed herself to think of it. She could not let it go without a fight, however.

"But does not this prove that I belong in Slytherin? That I persuaded the Hat to yield to my will? Do not our choices show our real character, more than our abilities?"

"Miss Black, this proves, if anything, that you belong in Hufflepuff. You were loyal to your family. Besides, people develop, change, adjust to life. The girl who nearly became a hatstall six years ago might very well be completely different from the young woman standing now before me. I do not believe that your journey is over. Before you have finished school, everything and everyone will have changed. You most of all. Please, do not repress your real self for those who will not accept you even for who you pretend to be for their sake. They may be family, but that does not make them fair, or right in everything."

Isla's mind was racing. Hadn't she tried long enough to be noticed and loved by her family, pretending to be someone else, concealing her true self to all but Sophia? She was tired of this situation, though this was the first time she felt it. She needed rest, and solitude, lest her brain would burst with so many thoughts troubling it.

"Now, you will apologize to Mr Hitchens for your behavior earlier. You will begin your detentions tomorrow evening. And I hope you will give careful consideration to all I have said. Miss Black, you are a remarkable person: you are talented, honest, decisive, and strong. Many wise and powerful witches and wizards would have yielded in the face of the discouragement your family must have shown on your decision to play Quidditch. If you would just free yourself from the restraints that your blood status poses on you, you would be in awe of the person you can become. Now, you had better go up to Mrs McFarland to see you. You look very ill. Off you go."

* * *

Tired and sick as she felt, Isla made her way towards the Hospital Wing instead of the Great Hall, were most of the students would be taking lunch by now. Mrs McFarland, the matron, diagnosed her with a severe cold and exhaustion and ordered her to spend the night there. Isla was greatly relieved not to have to meet with anyone at present. She felt unequal to the task, particularly if she encountered any Slytherins, who would be sure to scorn her. Mrs McFarland made her change into dry and clean robes, fed her beef stew that she had a house-elf bring from the kitchens, and gave her a strong potion, to heal the cold. She told Isla to sleep. She gladly drifted into a dreamless slumber, putting off all worries and concerns for the morning, when they might seem a little brighter.

* * *

She slept through the afternoon and night, and woke up early the next morning. Her cold was completely healed, and she was well-rested, a feeling she hadn't had since the holidays. The matron let her go, after a quick check-up. Isla's feet moved of their own accord as she left the Hospital Wing; they took her to the library. She passed through the empty castle, rejoicing at the peace that would be hers for a few hours more. She found the most remote nook in the library, picked up a book, and sat there, pretending to read. Her eyes stared blankly at the words in front of her, but her mind was racing through the previous day's events.

All that Professor Williams had said was true. She was no longer the happy, carefree girl she used to be; she hadn't been since Sirius' death. It was true, she had only been 5 years old when he had died, but she remembered him clearly, maybe because those had been the happiest years of her life, and his face visited her in her sleep, laughing and bright. When Sirius died, everything had collapsed. Her parents neglected her, her own parents; instead of clinging on to each other, the family had fallen apart. Her father, a family man, caring and loving, though distant, had become harsh, like his opinions on blood status, and not even the most perfect pure-bloods, his own family, could soften him. Her mother seemed simply lost. She devoted her whole energy to her youngest daughter, neglecting Phineas and Isla, who needed her, yet never spoke it. As for Phineas, not only did he lose a brother, but an elder brother. He soon realized that, with the oldest son dead, he would now be the heir and the head of the family. Phineas had been a grown man ever since he was six years old. Father never failed to remind him of the responsibilities attached to his circumstances, and took a great interest in his health and education. But Isla was just the middle child. A daughter, and not a particularly beautiful or bright daughter at that, she was left with her own grief, never speaking of it, but constantly feeling it, like an old wound badly healed. Like Phineas, she was deprived of a proper childhood. And in the centre of all, their pure-blood family dignity, she thought with disgust. What did it matter? Wasn't Professor Williams one of the greatest professors of Transfiguration Hogwarts had ever seen? In the end, did it matter that he was muggle-born? Did it make even the slightest difference, except inside their miserable minds?

She threw the book aside, rose and walked to the nearest window, which overlooked the lake. Spring seemed to slowly make her way into the grounds, and the glorious landscape was breathtaking in the few dazzling rays of sunlight that managed to escape through the dense clouds. Impulsively, she rested her forehead on the cold window, as if this motion would make her part of the scenery. But the cold glass against her skin calmed her turbulent mind, and eased the pain she felt as she saw the error of her ways.

Of course, this realization changed nothing; she was alone, she had no one to turn to. She would continue to pretend, but she would now do it knowingly. She could not risk the displeasure of her family: she would be cut off without a knut, and left to starve for all they cared. No; she was still a proud daughter of the House of Black, even if, in her heart, she knew differently.

"Isla?" came a soft voice from behind her.

She turned and saw Sophia looking cautiously at her.

"I thought I would find you here. I went to the Hospital Wing, but Mrs McFarland said you had gone. How are you feeling?"

"Fine", said Isla. Lying now felt easy, a simple matter of routine, or rather survival.

"Shall we go down to breakfast?"

"If you wish."

She left the wild beauty of the Scottish highlands, and the comfort of the cold window, to join her fellow Slytherins, most of whom looked disapprovingly at her as she sat on the bench between Sophia and Duilius. She had no appetite, and she soon rose from the table, making her way once more towards the library. She stayed there, in the most secluded corner, buried in a book, until it was time for her detention with Professor Williams.

As she raised her hand to knock on the door, it opened and out came Bob Hitchens. As soon as he realized that it was Isla who was standing in front of him, his features arranged themselves in the most coldly civil look he could muster.

"Mr Hitchens, I am so sorry. I truly am", Isla began saying.

"It is fine, Miss Black, you are merely blocking my way, you need not be so upset."

Isla felt a little sad to see him react so to her, thought she was not in the least surprised.

"No, I meant... Mr Hitchens, I am truly sorry for what happened yesterday. My behavior was unpardonable. You tried to defend me, and I... Well, I am ashamed to even think what I said. I am very, very sorry."

"Miss Black, your behavior was indeed most rude. It is, however, a thing of the past. Do not trouble yourself. Good afternoon."

His voice was cold and merciless, his face, so warm and cheery usually, was unsuitably stony. He passed her and walked down the corridor, without ever looking at her. This was not unexpected to Isla, but she was upset; her first endeavor to amend her errors had gone spectacularly wrong. She sighed as she entered Professor Williams' office.

"Is anything the matter, Miss Black? I hope you are not severely ill", he asked in alarm as she settled down to begin her work.

"No, sir, I thank you. A slight cold that Mrs McFarland healed in five minutes. But, I wonder, sir", she looked up at him, puzzled, "will Mr Hitchens ever be able to forgive me? I am afraid he was very much offended, with good reason, of course."

He pierced her with his blazing eyes, and leaned back on his chair.

"He was very upset, to be sure. He is a kind boy, but I think only if he understands your situation will he be able to pardon you. He has trouble comprehending the wizarding culture and way of doing things. I am glad that you want to apologize to Mr Hitchens. But, Miss Black, do be careful. Things might easily get out of hand, should any of our conversations reach your family. You cannot risk disinheritance before you can earn your own living."

"I thank you, sir, for your concern. I know full well what could happen, and it would not be good, not for me at least. I promise I will be very discreet."

She then got round to her work. Detention with Professor Williams was not as bad as Isla had expected it to be; she had not received detention in five years, and she had a horrible memory of being forced to write lines. This detention, however, was unique: Professor Williams was keen for Isla to realize that there was virtually no difference between muggle-born and pure-blood witches and wizards. He therefore asked Isla to rewrite, for the sake of the school archive, without the use of magic, the school records of muggle-born achievements and awards. Isla was astonished to see the accomplishments that the muggle-borns had achieved, and she found the time spent in detention most instructive, despite her numb fingers at the end of each session.

As she passed the Great Hall on her way to the dungeons, Isla felt her stomach rumble; she had not realized she had scarcely touched food that day. She plucked up her courage, walked into the Great Hall, and sat next to Sophia on the Slytherin table.

"How did it go?" she whispered to her as she served her peas.

"Oh, fine."

Duilius, who was sitting across them, looked anxiously at Isla. Ursula, as was expected, completely ignored her, and was chatting a few seats down the table with Julia Lestrange. Isla felt slightly better, to know that at least she had someone that cared for her. Beneath the table, she pressed Sophia's hand, and she felt the pressure returned. They did not exchange a word through dinner, but Isla knew that Sophia and Duilius had forgiven her and were by her side.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: An Unusual Friendship

Slytherins might use the forbidden word quite frequently when in the company of pure-bloods and friends, but they kept quiet about it. They were ambitious, and though pure-blood superiority was a popular belief, they could not appear to be so openly offensive and hostile towards an ever-growing part of the wizarding population. That was part of the reason March was a month of misery for Isla: not only had she deprived the Quidditch Cup from their House, she had also exposed them.

A week after the disastrous Quidditch match, Isla had become immune to her fellow Slytherins spiteful looks and snide remarks. The rest of the students were not kinder; of course, the whole school knew by now why Miss Black spent two hours every evening in Professor Williams' office and Slytherin was no longer leading in House points. She was a Black, after all, no one expected anything better from the daughter of a snobbish family obsessed with blood purity. No one understood or took notice of the change that Isla had experienced, except for Sophia and Duilius, who kept it to themselves. She had always been a quiet girl, but now she rarely spoke to anyone. As the weather warmed, she spent more and more time sitting alone by the Lake, or hidden in the dark corridors of the library.

She had not yet found an opportunity to speak to Bob Hitchens, but, by the middle of March, she managed to get him by himself. She arrived a few minutes earlier in the Runes classroom, and, as she took out her book to look over a couple of symbols, Bob entered, alone. He froze at the doorway as soon as he saw her. She sprang to her feet and called him, before he could leave the room.

"Mr Hitchens! Would you be so kind as to step inside? I would like to talk to you, if I may."

"I doubt we have anything to talk about, Miss Black."

"Please, it will not take long, I promise."

He stood for a moment or two, his hand hovering unsure over the doorknob, evidently torn between his desire to leave and his curiosity. Curiosity won, as it usually does, and reluctantly, he closed the door behind him, and turned to face her, his expression a mixture of cold reproach and unwilling curiosity.

"Mr Hitchens, I am afraid you are still angry at me. I perfectly understand how you feel. But you must believe that I have repented my outburst from the moment the word left my lips. I am truly sorry. I did not mean to insult you, but-"

"But you did. Miss Black, why would you even bother with an apology? Is not that what you call all those of my birth when alone with your friends? Is not that what you think of those whose parents are not wizards?"

Anger and bitterness marked every word he uttered. It was evident to her that he resented his own curiosity, and now wished only to be relieved of her company. He looked contemptibly at her, as she lowered her gaze to the ground; he was, after all, right. She told him so.

"But", she went on, "you must understand that, until we come to school, children of my birth have been made to believe that pure blood is the most important thing. It takes a good deal of effort from some of our teachers to diminish such firmly embedded beliefs. Most never realize that it is wrong. Believe me, I was one of them for many years, but not any more. I have been humiliated, and wronged, and neglected, and scorned from pure-bloods, even from my own family, just as any muggle-born. I have learned that there is no great difference between us, for I have felt their contempt too. I am so very sorry."

Bob listened, with a relentless expression on his face. Pain turned to anger as she spoke. He disbelieved every word she uttered, despite the honesty and feeling with which they were spoken. Isla was spared his reproach for wasting both their times with lies a first year would have trouble believing by the bell; students instantly began filing into the classroom, and Bob was forced to sit down for an hour of Ancient Runes.

* * *

If Bob Hitchens ever chanced to glance on Isla, his expression was cold, and lines appeared around his eyes on his smooth face as he narrowed them. Isla was very sorry to see how much he disliked her. She did not blame him though, for her behavior had been unpardonable.

A day or two after her disastrous attempt to make amends to him, Isla walked gingerly through the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom; Bob was standing in front of it, blocking her way, and was pretending not to see her. She moved quickly and sat at the back corner of the classroom, were she was soon joined by Sophia. Bob, with his friend Kirkpatrick, were seated in the middle of the classroom, diagonally across from were Isla and Sophia were opening their text books. As Professor Bones began the lesson, Isla accidentally heard the conversation of the two Slytherin boys sitting directly in front of her.

"Yes, I shall cast the Imperius Curse, and I will make him say the stupidest things. Bones will be furious!", said George Crabbe, chuckling.

His companion snickered viciously nodding in Bob Hitchnes' direction, as Isla listened with increasing alarm. It seemed that Bob too had listened the conversation and had turned to face the two mischief makers in disbelief and horror. He did nothing to protect himself from the imminent attack, however, for he could hardly believe his ears. Isla saw that Crabbe was drawing his wand under the desk, and acted on an impulse. With a swift movement, she drew hastily her wand, pointed it in Bob's direction and muttered under her breath-

"Protego!"

Crabbe cast his spell, but it could not reach his victim. Perplexed by this unexpected development, he tried casting the curse a second, and even a third time, but to no avail. He stared disbelievingly to his companion, who was just as amazed as he was. Isla tried to hide a smile as Bob caught her eye; he was no longer looking at her coldly. His face betrayed the surprise he felt by Isla's actions.

"Miss Black, would you be so kind as to answer my question since Mr Brown here is not in the mood for paying attention?", said Professor Bones, glancing in her direction.

Isla quickly collected her wits, and answered, hoping that she had heard the question correctly.

"Right you are. Five points for Slytherin."

Isla's lips twitched a little as she tried to control the small smile that once again wanted to escape her, as she realized that she had actually gained points for her house. She still felt Bob's gaze on her face. When she dared to look in his direction, he immediately withdrew his eyes, and turned to face the blackboard. He did not look at her for the rest of the period, and when the class was dismissed by Professor Bones, he was the first to rise and leave.

* * *

Isla felt exhausted that evening as she left Professor Williams' office after her detention. She thought she would skip dinner and go directly to sleep. Lost as she was in her own fatigue, she did not notice a figure moving in the shadows. She was startled when Bob Hitchens appeared out of nowhere in front of her. She gasped in surprise.

"Miss Black. Forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you."  
"It is fine, I assure you. I did not expect to meet anyone, that is all. I thought everyone was at dinner."

"Well, I-I was hoping to catch you, as a matter of fact", he said uncomfortably, bending his eyes to the floor. In the dim light of the corridor, Isla saw that his cheeks were red. "Miss Black, I could not think of another place of time that I might speak to you privately. I wanted to thank you for what you did in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"It was nothing, Mr Hitchens. Do not trouble yourself."

"N-no, it was. They would have humiliated me for the sake of a good laugh. You prevented that, when I was unforgiving and unkind towards you. Thank you, again and again."

Isla smiled sadly.

"You have every right to despise me and be angry at me. Consider the incident today as an act of atonement. It is not enough, I know, but I cannot think of anything better."

"Perhaps we have both been mistaken about one another", said Bob, looking Isla straight in the eye. "Perhaps we should start over."

"Perhaps we should", she replied, smiling as she gave him her hand to shake.

They bowed, and walked together, careful in case someone appeared suddenly. At the Marble Staircase they parted, bowing ever so slightly. A huge weight was lifted from Isla's mind at that moment, and she decided that she would be joining her friends for dinner after all.

* * *

From that moment, every time they met alone, before class or in a deserted corridor, Bob and Isla exchanged a word or two, at first in recognition, then in greeting, and within a month, they had muffled conversations, constantly looking over their backs, lest anyone should appear.

Meetings between them soon ceased to occur only before classes; they began meeting also in the shadows between bookshelves in the library, or under a beech tree near the lake, hidden from view. Secrecy was vital for their friendship to continue, as Isla could never be seen in public fraternizing with a muggle-born. Bob understood that, even though they never discussed it. In his company, she felt relaxed and free, and she realized that true friendship should be like that, not weighing every word before one spoke. They had all kinds of conversations, but the difference between muggles and wizards fascinated them the most. Isla was interested in learning about the muggle world, and Bob would shower her with questions about life after Hogwarts in the wizarding community. Bob's amazement of the treatment of witches was one of the first topics to be discussed between them, during a rainy day in the Runes sections of the library.

"I confess myself mightily surprised, you know, to attend a mixed school. It seems that wizards do not mind girls being educated alongside boys, and even taking up professions afterwards. It was very strange at first, and I admit I have not quite adapted to the change from the muggle world yet."

"Do you mean to say that muggle boys and girls are educated _separately_? And that muggle women are not allowed to work?" She looked bewildered.

"Of course not", he said in his booming voice, before coughing to hide his uneasiness. "At least, not the ones with any standing in society."

"And they call pure-bloods prejudiced and narrow-minded! What in Merlin's name can be so very different between the two sexes?"

Bob looked at her in astonishment. He had never even thought of it in that way. What actually was different between the two sexes? Physical ability immediately sprang to his mind, but other than that, he seemed unable to produce any serious argument against the equality of the two genders.

"It is true that women have been treated unequally and unfairly for centuries, but progress is being made on that score daily."

"Centuries?! In the wizarding world, women have always been treated equally with men. I am astonished to find that it is not so with muggles."

"Men have always been the providers for the household. Women, as the fairer and weaker sex, have traditionally been confined at home."

Isla tried to imagine such a secluded life, to be always dependent on a man, never to be able to do as she pleased.

"What a ghastly prospect" she said, with a terrified look on her face. "Of course, witches of high society never work either, but at least they have the _choice_."

"All societies seem to have their prejudices and their weaknesses", said Bob. "Wizards oppress muggle-borns, and muggles govern women."

"How very sad, though. For we are all human, after all."

"True. But that is the way things are, and they are not going to change anytime soon, not in the muggle world at least."

"Inequality of sexes! Huh, muggles" Isla muttered under her breath.

She might sound surprised at the treatment of muggle women, but if she were to be honest with herself, her situation was scarcely better. She would have to marry a pure-blood, one whom she would probably not love, and she would not be allowed to work. The time when she had hoped to fall in love with a pure-blood wizard had passed. But then she thought of Duilius, and realized that not everyone was the same. Maybe there was still hope.

* * *

Even without Quidditch practice, Isla's days were very busy, with classes, immense amounts of homework and revision cropping up. At least her classmates seemed to have forgotten about the last game, and that helped her prodigiously, as it meant that she could now walk into a room without attracting every single disapproving gaze. Slytherins were not so forgiving, but they no longer glared at her or shunned her. She kept herself to herself, avoiding the noisy parts of the common room, with Sophia and Duilius occasionally joining her in the secluded corners of the dungeons. They spoke very little, but even this mute support meant the world to Isla, and the gratitude and affection she felt for them was almost overwhelming. Ursula was less understanding, which came as no surprise to her. Isla still was, however, Phineas' sister, and therefore Ursula pretended to be friendly again with her. She silently scorned her for her motives and attitude. Phineas had hardly spoken to her since the disastrous Quidditch match, and Isla found the change not wholly disagreeable. Elladora was too busy with homework and friends to bother much, but at least they had a more sisterly relationship.

Isla caught herself impatient to see Bob. She enjoyed his company greatly, for he was understanding and never made her feel awkward. Walks at the border of the Forbidden Forest and muffled conversations in the rarely visited sections of the library was all they could have, but it was enough for her to have an escape, a human being with feelings, who did not tread on her own emotions and who respected her for her real self, instead of her surname and social position. They often disagreed on various issues, admittedly, but they respected and admired each other's opinions. Isla felt refreshed after an argument with Bob: she felt that he was open and honest with his views, and was not trying to gain her approval by pretending to embrace her opinions, contrary to the common practice of most of her acquaintance.

One afternoon, as she was talking a solitary walk on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Isla met with Bob who was reading a letter. As an involuntary questioning look escaped her before she could control it. He informed her with a smile that it was from his sister, and Bob began to tell her about his family. His parents had a shop that sold fabrics in Manchester, and he had two brothers and two sisters, all of which were older than he was. They were very loving people, even if a little strict, but to learn that their youngest son was a wizard had been a great shock to all of them.

"My parents were thrilled, once they came to terms with the news. Ed, my eldest brother, became a clergyman the year my letter from Hogwarts came. He did not take it kindly, having a wizard in the family. I scarcely ever see him now, for he makes it a point never to visit our parents while I am visiting home on holidays. Betsy is married and has two riotous boys, so I do not meet her or correspond with her as often as I would like. But Anne and Frank, they have always been the closest to me. We were inseparable as children. Oh, we would run around Manchester pretending to be knights in shining armor, and Anne would be our damsel in distress! How we laughed with her cries for help! Of course, they are always home for the holidays, so we still have good laughs and we spend most of our days together. I write regularly to them, and they answer my letters, even if they are not yet reconciled to owl post."

Isla was listening, enthralled by the love that Bob so evidently had for his family, even his brother that shunned him for being a wizard. It was crystal clear to Isla that Bob had grown up feeling loved and accepted, and even if occasionally the Hitchens had been in a tight spot economically, he had wanted for nothing. She envied him, and was in awe of the environment that he had lived in. How she longed to have known such a warm home, and an embrace at the end of trying day!  
Bob, however, did not fail to inquire Isla after her own family. The dreaded moment had arrived, for she could hardly explain the history that had made the Blacks the people they now were. She could not avoid answering, and so Isla began telling Bob a little about her childhood; she scrupulously omitted any mention of Sirius or that tragic day, that so often tormented her in her sleep. But she told him of her parents' coldness and distance, of their severity and strong opinions that she had learned to believe.

"I have heard so many times muggles and muggle-borns being scorned, humiliated and rejected, that I began believing in their inferiority without questioning. It is a truth so well fixed in our minds by the time we reach an age where we can think for ourselves and form our own judgements, that we never doubt, not even for moment, that muggles are a sickness that threatens to consume the wizarding world. And even if we have the courage to doubt", Isla continued with a small, humorless laugh, "there is talk of little else in our houses than pure-blood superiority and the importance of noble birth, that our doubts are soon quietened, and we are lulled back to the false reality presented to us by our families."

She stared at the depths of the Forbidden Forest, lost in thought. She was strangely relieved to have disclosed an area of her life she feared to talk about. Next to her, Bob was examining her with the highest disbelief.

"B-but, surely, not all families are like that."

"No, they are not. But mine is", she said, fixing her gaze on his.

He stopped abruptly, and turned to face her. For a moment, they stared intently at one another, oblivious to the growing darkness.

"Miss Black, all that you have said this evening has astonished me. Not that such families are scarce in the muggle world, but I can see the pain and isolation you have suffered, by the very people that should have cared for you, and I admire you for your courage to even secretly doubt your family's beliefs. I now realize what it must have been for you to go against their opinions in your head, and I beg your pardon for ever being rude or disrespectful to you."

Isla was at a loss for a reply; she had never seen such warmth of feeling. The strangest emotion was formed in her: she was proud of herself. She quickly realized that no great speech was required.

"Thank you", she said, and a smile broke on her face.

They continued walking for a while, before heading back to the castle for dinner.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Holiday Plans

Phineas had avoided Isla to the best of his ability during the summer term, and she had to admit that she was not discomforted by the arrangement. On a fine morning in May, however, just a week before the beginning of the examination period, her brother ended his long silence; as Isla was leaving the Great Hall after breakfast, Phineas caught up with her and requested a word in private. A sardonic smile adorned his lips that could only be ill news for Isla. Reluctantly she indulged him, however, and moved towards a secluded corner near the Marble Staircase.

"Ah, Isla", he said, and the temperature of the room seemed to drop several degrees from his cold manner. "I just received a letter from father, containing the plans for the holidays."

She exhaled a silent sigh of relief. Summer holidays. She could handle that.

"As you know, I will be taking a three-month tour of the world, instead of the traditional twelve-month, with Gamp and Burke, as Burke wishes to return to London in order to seek employment." Disdain dripped from every syllable he uttered. "Mother and father have decided to spend the summer months in Italy with Elladora, where her friend, Livia Lestrange, is to join her. You, on the other hand, will remain at Number 12, in order to prepare for your NEWTs. Aunt Octavia will stay with you."

It instantly dawned to her that she could not, after all, handle summer holidays. She had known to hardly expect anything pleasant when Phineas addressed her, especially in private, but this was beyond belief. To be left on her own would have been a blessing, but being left in the care of Aunt Octavia was a prospect too ghastly for words.

"B-But why? You were not left behind last summer. Why should I be left with Aunt Octavia?" she stammered as soon as her amazement subsided a little and her throat was capable of speech once more.

"My dear sister", said Phineas in a tone that even the most well-meaning person in the world would realize that Isla was in no way dear to him, "we are not of the same caliber. Our parents, with your best interests at heart of course, feel that you are in need of concentration and privacy in order to achieve your full potential in your upcoming examinations, and they believe that Aunt Octavia will be an invaluable tutor and companion for you."

Phineas gave her the letter that he was clenching, and she read-

_12, Grimauld Place, 26 May 1865_

_Phineas,_

_I am pleased to hear of your academic progress and hope to see you uphold the family's honor with your success at your NEWT examinations, which has suffered so severely by Isla lately. I dare say that in September a prestigious position in the Ministry of Magic will be within your grasp._

_I was, however, disappointed to learn that you will not be taking the traditional one-year trip around the world, and would urge you to rethink your decision. Your mother and I will be spending the summer months in Italy with the Malfoys, were Elladora will join us. Tell her to invite Livia Lestrange, if she wills it. We will be most happy to accommodate a young lady of noble stock as the friend of our daughter. Isla will remain at Number 12 in order to study. I doubt she is currently sufficiently prepared for her examinations with her free time so uselessly spent. My sister Octavia has agreed to stay at Number 12 during our absence in the summer._

_I await your final decision regarding the world tour,_

_Cygnus Black_

Isla was not foolish enough not to see a lost cause. With the slightest inclination of the head, she turned on her heels and made her way towards the entrance of the castle. In a daze, she crossed the grounds and was soon sitting under her favorite beech tree near the edge of the lake. Her vision was blurred, and she could not take in the beauty of the grounds in early summer, nor could she delight in the extravagant song of the birds, hidden from view in bushes and trees. The world had disappeared and, for a few moments, Isla seemed to be part of a different reality, one burdened with sadness, loneliness and hopelessness, instead of the happy overture to summer that spring was. Or perhaps the joy that surrounded her was a mere oasis in the desert of life.

A voice brought her out of this haze of misery and back in the dazzling sunlight that shone down on her from the clear, blue sky.

"Miss Black, is anything the matter?"

The voice was soft and worried, not wreaking with curiosity. It asked because it truly cared whether Isla was unwell. She turned to face Bob, standing nervously a few feet away from her. She had too little, or too much, to say to him, so she remained silent and directed her gaze again towards the lake. Instead of retreating, Bob moved closer, and sat near her. Isla could not even blink at this sudden and intimate action, and her voice seemed to have completely abandoned her. They sat there, under the warmth of the sun for several minutes, silent. It was not an awkward silence; on the contrary, it felt soothing to Isla, and she wished that it would last forever, that she would never have to return to her relatives. At last, she spoke, without looking at Bob.

"I am to stay with my dismal maiden aunt in order to study, while my family is to spend the summer in the south of Italy, with my sister's friend as a guest."

Amazed, Bob looked at her.

"I am sorry, but... is that all? I mean to say, that surely, you prefer to be left on your own."

"I do. I do not prefer, however, to be left behind to the mercy of the most vicious creature that has ever walked the earth by my own family. I detest the fact that, once again, my wishes have been completely disregarded, that I am so openly insulted for my intellect and ability, that I am to be cast aside for their pleasure."

She gave Bob the letter that was still clutched in her grasp. He read in silence, disbelieving every word of it; and it suddenly became clear to him why Miss Black was so upset to be left alone. It was not kindness, nor trust on her parents' part. They were simply ignoring their daughter's wishes, demeaning her abilities, and maliciously revenging her failure in Quidditch. Bob raised his eyes to meet Isla's as he returned the piece of parchment. She looked away, but when she looked back, no tears glistened on her cheeks or eyes. Bob's esteem for her rose as he saw that, hurt as she was, she had not lost her pride or self-control; if she kept these intact, she could survive in the ruthless world she was forced to live in.

"Miss Black, I hardly know what to say to such despicable behavior. I am sorry to call it such, as I must be insulting your family, but, no matter what your faults, which are non-existent in comparison with their own, they are your family, and should be forgiving and caring towards you."

"It is not merely that", she said with some difficulty, after a short pause. She looked away from Bob, fearing his reaction, and with a sigh continued-

"My parents hold me responsible for my brother's death."

Her companion gazed at her in utter disbelief. It was a while before he could overcome his surprise at her revelation, and manage to stumble-

"I-I did not know you had another brother."

"Oh yes", replied Isla, still avoiding his eyes. "Sirius. He was the eldest. I loved him more than anyone, and he always had a soft spot for me. We were inseparable. On a summer's day" she said as her voice, usually so calm and soft, began to falter, "twelve years ago, Sirius and I went exploring down by the stream near my Aunt Octavia's house. We were running through the meadow. I was trying to catch up with him, but he was too quick for me. Once I had lessened the distance between us, he- he jumped into the stream."

Isla's voice was nothing more than a whisper as she finished her account of what Bob correctly assumed to be the worst day of her life. Suddenly she turned to face him with pleading eyes.

"I-I could do nothing. Sirius' magic should have saved him, he was at an age when magic has become apparent in children. But it did not. I still wonder how this could have happened. My own magical ability had not developed by then, so I could be of little use to him. I screamed. But when help came, it was too late."

Her companion could hardly believe what Isla had just related to him. She now sat silently next to him, staring at the ground, as his mind was threatening to explode. To neglect a daughter who desperately needed her parents' love was one thing. But to accuse an innocent child of an event that must have shocked it so deeply was simply outrageous. If he had felt his regard for Miss Black grow previously, now he could do no less than well and truly admire her. She had grown up feeling guilty for the death of her beloved brother by the very persons who should have comforted. A child of five could hardly have prevented such a tragic accident. Bob, in a moment of unguarded passion, took Isla's hand into his own, looked straight into her eyes and said-

"Miss Black, not for a moment must you hold yourself in any way responsible for your brother's passing. It was a tragic accident, which you were in no position to prevent. Your family should know as much. 'It is a wise father that knows his own child'. Your father and mother are not wise. And they, most of all, will suffer for it once they understand that they have estranged such a strong, intelligent and _innocent_ daughter."

Bewilderment presided over Isla's features at Bob's sudden actions and words; and though feeling his hand on hers had at first discomposed her already turbulent mind, the quotation he had uttered puzzled her even more. Gratitude was Isla's main feeling in hearing him so strongly protesting her innocence, and though the comfort and friendliness of his hand were not entirely unwelcome sensations to her, she frowned at this speech, and Bob realizing what the problem might be, chuckled softly.

"Shakespeare. From 'The Merchant of Venice'", he said, but seeing no difference, he continued "He is one of the greatest muggle dramatists. Have you never heard of William Shakespeare?" he asked in amazement.

Isla shook her head in response, and it was his turn to look at her in astonishment.

"Mr Hitchens, you must not forget that I am completely ignorant in all things concerning muggles."

"You cannot know, then, the greatness which you have missed. William Shakespeare's language and insight into human nature are legend."

Isla smiled. Coming from a set of cold, calculating people, such warmth and genuine admiration were novel to her. She was refreshed, almost as much as she was relieved on realizing that Mr Hitchens was not repelled by her now that he knew the reason of her family's harshness on her; despite the sorrow and anger she felt, she no longer was lonely. Hardly realizing her actions, Isla pressed Bob's hand, which was still in hers, and said-

"I can never thank you enough, Mr Hitchens. You have been kind and understanding. You, whom I have insulted, even if I have bitterly repented my language that day. I am ever so grateful."

Bob turned to face her, and, for a moment was blinded by the sun. He smiled a dazzling smile at her, and for the first time realized that she was pretty. Not beautiful, but pretty. He could not understand how he never noticed before.

* * *

As summer settled in Scotland to stay for the next few months, concentration was especially hard for the students of Hogwarts; the weather was lovely, and the scenery inviting. To Isla, in particular, it was even more distracting, to know that she would be leaving such beauty and harmony to spend the holidays in London, studying with Aunt Octavia. She managed, however, to focus on her revision, as did most of her classmates, and within a short time, examinations were nearing their end.

As Isla rose from her seat on hearing the bell that signaled the end of the Transfiguration test, Professor Williams stepped forward and called her.

"Ah, Miss Black. A word, if you please."

Isla remained behind, waiting for the classroom to empty. As soon as the last pupil was in the corridor, Professor Williams closed the door and walked to his desk.

"Do sit down, Miss Black. Do not be alarmed, I do not intend to scold you; you have done nothing to deserve it."

Slightly relaxing, she accepted the offered chair, muttering her thanks under her breath.

"Now", he went on, "I must confess myself very much in awe of your friendship with Mr Hitchens."

Shocked as Isla was by this speech, she could make no reply, but stare, open mouthed, at her smirking teacher.

"Do not worry, it has been noticed by none but me. After all, it was outside my door that your reconciliation took place", he said, looking mischievously at her. "I think that this association has prepared you for something I was keen to acquaint you with, but knew not how."

Professor Williams opened a drawer and took out what seemed to be a tattered old text book.

"I thank you, sir, but I already own a copy", said Isla, looking perplexed at the book lying in front of her.

"Appearances can be misleading", replied Professor Williams, gesturing to Isla to open the book.

She took the fragile volume into her hands, and, as she opened it, she realized that the ink on the pages changed. She immediately understood that this book was made to look like a copy of the textbook to all but herself. Turning carefully the pages, she reached the title page, and read-

_An Enlightenment of Pure-blood Wizards and Muggles relations prior to the International Stature of Secrecy_

She looked up from the yellowing page to her teacher, who was studying her with interest beneath his frowned brow.

"Do you think you will have time during the holidays to have a look at it?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you", replied Isla, carefully placing the book in her bag.

"Very well, then. Off you go."

* * *

With the examinations concluded by the middle of June, all that Isla had to do for her remaining time at Hogwarts was to await the results, and enjoy the last few days of independence. Most of her waking hours were spent out of doors, sitting by the lake with Sophia and Ursula, walking by the edge of the Forbidden Forest at dusk with Bob, or flying in the Quidditch pitch with Duilius. These days passed far too quickly for Isla's liking, and within a short time she found herself packing her trunk for the journey to London. The last evening she enjoyed a final meal with Sophia and Duilius, and later she sat quietly in the Slytherin Common Room, observing a game of chess between her friend and her cousin. Though most of her classmates were happy to return to their families, and a general good-humor was etched on everyone's face at the prospect of vacation for the next three months, she could not help but be melancholy and silent. This summer would be a summer of misery, she knew that. And she was not in the least ready to face it.

The night passed, however, and as can be expected, morning followed. Prepared or not, Isla would be forced to travel back to Number 12, Grimauld Place. As she was boarding the train, however, she saw Bob discreetly beckoning her to follow him. Feigning that she forgot her hat, which was securely locked in her trunk, she carelessly made for the now deserted station, were Bob was waiting.

"I wanted to wish you a pleasant summer, Miss Black."

Isla scoffed, and replied that he, above all others, knew that her holiday would be appalling at best. He replied with a smile of sympathy before continuing-

"Well, I was wondering... Would you consider it very impertinent of me if I... I wrote you?", said Bob, suddenly flushing deeply.

Isla could not fully comprehend why he was so embarrassed, or why she herself felt uneasy. But the thought of correspondence with Bob had made her far too happy to pay any attention to decorum, secrecy, or indeed common sense. She managed with little difficulty to lock out of her mind any scruples it began almost instantly to raise to such a scheme, and she eagerly replied-

"I would be most happy, Mr Hitchens, to receive a letter from you."

She finished her sentence with a very rare bright smile, that left Bob speechless. They bowed and left, one by one, before anyone noticed their prolonged absence.

As Isla stepped into the compartment that Sophia occupied with Ursula, she was asked whether she had found her hat.

"Oh, I had packed it and forgotten about it. I checked, it is in my trunk. Is Cousin Duilius joining us?"

"He said he would come in an hour or two; he wished to spend some time with his friends", replied Sophia all too soon.

Isla was grateful she had good reason to smile and tease Sophia, for it would have seemed most peculiar for her to be in high spirits with no reason. It would have certainly caused questions that she would have been incapable to answer, even to herself.

"Dear Isla, promise you will not completely forget your friends, even if we have such an enormous amount of studying", Sophia added in a whisper, so that Ursula could not listen.

Isla felt a rush of affection for her friend and replied that she would be a frequent correspondent. The two girls smiled softly to each other, making sure that their bespectacled companion would not take notice. It was good to know that, no matter what, they had each other.

Duilius came much sooner than even Sophia had dared to hope, and was almost immediately engrossed by her. He did, however, find time to press Isla to join him for a family dinner during the holidays.  
"My mother wished to have you stay with us, but unfortunately, your aunt had already agreed to keep you company. She insists, however, that you dine with us at least once a week."

Isla gave her promise that she would visit them. The train reached its destination sooner than Isla could expect, and she greeted her mother, who awaited the Black siblings on Platform 9 3/4, in the highest of spirits, thus puzzling her brother immensely. She now felt that, after all, this would not be such a disagreeable vacation.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Letters on a Summer's Day

_London, 7 July 1865_

_Professor Williams,_

_I hope you are well, and that you are having an enjoyable vacation._

_I write to thank you for the book you were so kind as to lend me, and to inform you that I have finished reading it. I must confess I am in shock. I never knew that even the most prominent pure-blood families had frequent association with muggles. A Malfoy had actually aspired to marry a muggle Queen! I was very disappointed, and not in the least surprised, to discover that the Black family had its equal share of this disgraceful turn of opinions. How mortifying to have believed such hypocritical and self-centered propaganda as this of the pure-blood society! To have opposed the Stature of Secrecy in order to enhance wizard interests in muggle society, and then, as soon as failure was certain, claim to support wizard superiority and the need to retain the ancient houses pure! I am ashamed of myself, Professor, for having so implicitly placed my faith in everything they taught me to believe. I know better now._

_I was wondering whether you could suggest any other books about the history of the Stature of Secrecy, or the wizarding families of that time. I would like to enlarge my knowledge on the topic, and gain a wider understanding of all parties concerned._

_I remain your grateful (and mortified) student,_

_Isla Black_

Isla concluded her letter and sealed it with the ring that her father had given her last Christmas, before tying the scroll of parchment to Pegasus' leg, who was eagerly awaiting his outing. She took a moment to fully appreciate the irony of sealing a letter containing rebellious, if not downright treacherous, opinions with the crest of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Strangely enough, she could feel neither guilt, nor fear; her family had no one to blame but themselves for this. Whether they realized it or not, they had brought it upon themselves.

A cool breeze wondered into her bedroom from the open window. Isla glanced outside, to the cloudy sky. It was still quite early, but she had found it hard to sleep, as she was expecting Sophia and Duilius to go for a picnic in order to celebrate her birthday. Shamelessly glad that she would be spending such an important day without her parents, she was excited to actually be with the two persons that were truly happy that she had been born on that day seventeen years ago. Indeed, Duilius had taken great pains in order to establish affection, trust and friendship with her in her parents' absence, instead of simply appearing to enjoy her company at school. Mr and Mrs Max had been most kind to her; she was invited to dinner every Sunday. Getting away from Aunt Octavia for a few hours was a most pleasant arrangement for both of them, and she genuinely enjoyed the time she spent with her aunt, uncle and cousins, for they were warm and honest, and cared for her. She did not feel the need to be reserved or secretive towards them; she felt an equally loved member of the family. Had her parents been present at such a dinner, they would not have recognized their daughter, thought Isla smiling mischievously.  
Her reverie was ended as a very tired-looking owl swooped into her room, and landed ungracefully onto the desk. She untied the scroll of parchment from its leg, and after a drink of water out of Pegasus' supply, it left. Isla immediately recognized her brother's handwriting, and prepared herself for unpleasantness before reading his letter.

_Damascus, 7July 1865_

_Isla,_

_Yesterday, as you may know, I received the results of my NEWTs, and I must confess myself exceedingly satisfied with my grades: Outstanding on all subjects. I believe Father will be pleased with my achievement._

_Damascus is a beautiful city, once one immerses oneself fully into the wizarding community. The muggle city is simply intolerable; noisy, dirty, and full of muggle scum. Thankfully, here there is no such nonsense as 'muggle rights' or 'muggle borns'._

_I was glad to hear that your revision so far is on time and to your satisfaction. Father seems to think that you are far too relaxed and are not studying hard enough. As you know, he communicates very often with our Aunt Octavia. I am sure, however, that you are trying your hardest._

_I wish you many happy returns._

_Your brother,_

_Phineas Nigellus Black_

However difficult her relationship with her brother, Isla was happy for his success in the NEWTs. Not that she had doubted the results even for a moment. The rest of the letter offered little enjoyment, even her brother's wishes for her birthday; she was sad that he took so little notice of it. As for his being sure that she was trying her hardest, she knew Phineas far too well to consider that remark as a compliment even for a second. It was pure contempt for her studying. Hurt as she was by such malicious remarks, she had grown used to them. She reminded herself with a sigh that Phineas was incapable of showing any kind of affection, especially towards herself, since she had good reason to believe that he scarcely had any brotherly love for her.

She was not in the mood for hypocrisy, and so deferred her answer to Phineas for later. Deciding that it was perhaps time to begin dressing for the day, Isla rose from her comfortable seat near the window, and moved towards the closet, when a second owl entered through the open window, startling her. She instantly recognized this owl as Chimera, Elladora's magnificent silver grey owl. She landed lightly on the back of the armchair, and hooted happily at Isla, stretching her leg towards her. Feeling her heart still beating fast, Isla unfolded her sister's letter.

_Amalfi, 7 July 1865_

_Dear sister,_

_I wish you a happy birthday! I am quite jealous of you, now that you are of age, though I am glad that I still have two years before the NEWTs. I hope your studying is going well, and that you are pleased with your progress so far. Is Aunt Octavia helpful? Perhaps you ought not to answer that question. I think I already know the answer._

_Isla, thinking of your examinations, and my OWLs, I must say that I am beginning to panic. I fear I shall fail. Especially now that Phineas achieved such good results, I am terrified of failure._

_Italy is very pretty, and Livia and I are having a splendid time. The sea is the most beautiful shade of green, and the coast full of white seashells. We spend most of our time on the beach, as Mama and Papa prefer to sit on the verandah and talk with Mr and Mrs Malfoy. By the way, did you know that Jason Malfoy got engaged? Mrs Malfoy told Mama that the wedding will take place at Christmas. His bride is a Miss Yaxley, I did not really understand which one. I must say that Papa seemed a little put off by the news; I think he was hoping he would choose you._

_Mama and Papa send their wishes for your birthday._

_Sincerely,_

_Elladora_

Isla could not contain a sad smile as she finished reading the letter. She was not in the least surprised that her parents would not send her their wishes in their own hand, let alone buy her a present. Elladora, as always, had done her duty, even if it did not seem as such to her young mind, and had then been almost completely engrossed by gossip and her own worries. Still, her wishes were the most warm she would be getting from either her parents or her siblings.

Jason Malfoy's engagement caused her no reaction whatsoever. She felt slightly relieved, knowing that she would not be forced into marrying that idiotic man, but other than that, she cared not what he did or who he married. Her father, of course, would be frustrated; he had hoped to marry one of his children to a Malfoy, the only family which had a greater history or a fuller vault in Gringotts than the Blacks, and as they had no daughter and all their other sons were already married, a connection would have to be postponed till the next generation. Isla lost no time, and took up a quill and a piece of parchment. As soon as she finished her reply, she tied it to Chimera, who took off for her journey back to Amalfi.

Her thoughts turned to the beauty of Italy, which Elladora described in her letter. She wanted to smell the salty air on the beach, and feel the heat of the mediterranean sun on her face, and stroll carelessly in places she had never seen before. Jealousy was an emotion she had yet to conquer, Isla realized bitterly. And yet, was it not justified and natural to be envious of her sister, who was so much more pampered from their parents than herself, who was now beneath the clear, warm and friendly skies of Italy? While she envied Elladora for these blessings, she did not blame her for being excluded; the poor child hardly noticed anything beyond herself. Isla was not entirely pleased by her sister's egotism, but she understood that, in order to survive in high society, it was essential.

On hearing the unmistakable sound of her aunt descending the stairs, Isla moved once more to the closet, and hurriedly got dressed. In a few minutes' time, she was fully dressed and about to join the elder witch. She bowed as she entered the dining room, wishing her aunt a good morning, before sitting down to breakfast. Silent as ever, Aunt Octavia gave her niece a stern look, before focusing on her meal. She opened the newspaper that Godam had left beside the tea tray, leaving Isla undisturbed to her breakfast. Only once she was finished did she address her.

"May I wish you many happy returns, my dear", said Aunt Octavia with little, if any, sincerity. "I hope you have an enjoyable day with your cousin and friend. Try not to stay out too late, though. Your studying is already a day behind."

"I thank you, Aunt. I will be back before nightfall", replied Isla equally coldly, bowing her head ever so slightly.

As soon as her aunt was out of the room, a smile slowly formed on Isla's thin lips; she knew that she would not be seeing her disagreeable countenance for the rest of the day. Finishing her tea, Isla returned to her room to await Sophia and Duilius. She picked up a book, and sat in the armchair by the open window. Her anticipation for her friends' arrival was too great to be distracted, and soon she was pacing lazily across her room. She was on the verge of convincing herself to answer to Phineas' letter and get it out of the way, when a third owl made its entrance through the window. Frowning, she accepted a heavy-looking parcel that the bird was carrying, unable to guess from whom it could be or what it contained. Wreaking with curiosity, Isla tore the paper and gasped as a leather-bound volume was revealed. The title of the book was written in golden letters, creating a beautiful contrast with the dark green leather they were printed on:

_The Complete Works of William Shakespeare_

As Isla carefully opened the book to examine its thin pages, a note fell out of it. She picked it up, still in the daze of such an expensive gift, and read the birthday card.

_Manchester, 7 July 1865_

_Dear Miss Black,_

_Many happy returns! I wish you happiness and the completion of all your dreams and expectations!  
I am fully aware of the boldness of my sending you a present, and most of all the specific book. The fact is that I cannot imagine any living creature not revering the Bard, and so I did not wish to detain such a pleasure from you._

_I hope you are enjoying your holidays so far, and that you are having a wonderful day._

_May God (and Merlin) bless you._

_With respect,_

_Bob Hitchens_

As she finished reading the card, Isla's expression was astonishment mingled with joy; her eyes lit up and her smile was wide. Her face at that moment would have shamed the blazing sun of Italy. She was deeply moved by Bob's kind gift, and, had she not heard the doorbell ring a moment later, she would have been in serious danger of shedding a tear of joy. As soon as she understood, however, from the creaking of the stairs, that someone was approaching her bedroom, she straightened her face, and immediately shrunk with her wand the book and card, and hid them in her pocket. Sophia knocked gently on the door, and as Isla let her in, she knew immediately that something was amiss.

"Happy Birthday!", cried Sophia, with a bright smile as she stooped to kiss her on the cheek. "My dear Isla", she added with concern as she took in her friend's discomposure, "are you quite well?"

"I am perfectly fine, thank you, Sophia."

She was not convinced in the slightest, but at least she dropped the subject.

Duilius was not long in arriving, and soon the three apparated on the top of a beautiful cliff in Devonshire, were one could smell the ocean, and hear the waves crush against the rocks. The three friends sat for a few moments in complete silence, as they admired the beauty of the scenery. Isla was perfectly content for the first time in years that it was her birthday.

* * *

The sun was setting when Isla, Sophia and Duilius decided that it was time to leave the treacherous beauty of the sea and the enchanting coast that it washed on, and reluctantly, the two girls laid their hands on Duilius' arm before he turned on the spot and the suffocating darkness of Apparition took them. Soon, her cousin and friend gone, Isla was alone in her bedroom. She sat at her desk, picked up her quill and began writing a note in response to Bob.

_London, 7 July 1865_

_Mr Hitchens,_

_I thank you most earnestly for your thoughtful gift and kind card. I was infinitely curious about the muggle writer you had mentioned, but had no means of finding any of his works._ _As soon as I have any free time at my disposal, I will dedicate it to read the book since it has been praised so highly by you._

_The only genuine pleasure that the holidays have yielded so far are my aunt and uncle Max's kind hospitality. Aunt Octavia is every bit as unpleasant as one expected her to be. I hope, in all honesty, that your holiday is far more agreeable than mine._

_I thank you, once again, sir, for your present._

_I remain your sincere friend,_

_Isla Black_

Sealing the letter with the ring bearing the Black crest, she could not help but be amused to think that her father's gift was now used for the second time in a single day on a letter that would have her struck off the family tree. She was sure that Cygnus Black had never intended such a function for it. Isla, smiling wryly, got up from her desk, and started preparing to go to bed. Unwilling for such a lovely day to end, however, she sat next to the open window, which admitted into her chamber the night wind. She took into her lap the thick volume, and almost reverently began to examine it. Its light, soft pages were gilded; each play, under its title was decorated with a picture, which, she was astonished to find, did not move. She thought that muggles perhaps did not have the means of making paintings animated. Yet, the stillness of the little pictures fascinated her.

A thought disturbed her perusing of the book; this looked a very expensive gift for a school boy. She was aware that Mr Hitchens' family had had difficult times in the past, and she was certain that such a luxurious item must have cost a considerable amount of money. A new rush of gratitude flooded her, and, for the second time in a day, felt the threat of tears in her eyes. The first rays of dawn had appeared in the horizon before Isla found the will to close the volume and lie down to sleep. Slumber was quick to take her. No nightmares came to disturb her, as had every previous night of her stay in Number 12, and in the morning, she was well-rested and in such good mood as to not mind her aunt's obnoxious behavior.

* * *

_Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! It's been hectic __over the last week._

_Anyway, thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave a review! :)_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Blunder

Isla alighted from the train and stood for a moment on the platform of Hogsmeade Station, inhaling the fragrances of the forest in the calm and slightly chilly evening. She knew only too well that it was the last time she would be traveling to Hogwarts for the start of a new school year. The moment she dreaded ever since she started her formal education, the conclusion of her seventh year at Hogwarts, was now approaching fast. Merlin knew what her family had in store for her once her schooling was over. She doubted not that she would find out soon enough. For now, all she could do was to enjoy her final year at the castle she loved so well; and since Phineas had graduated, she had a strange sense of freedom she associated with flying, and felt that it would be hers in the months to follow. With this thought, her spirits lifted a little.

"Isla, Ursula found a carriage. Are you coming?", called Sophia from behind her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She turned to face her friend with a sad smile, nodding her head in response. Sophia took her hand and gently pressed it, thus communicating her silent understanding and support. She knew. Sophia always knew precisely how Isla felt without asking questions or demanding explanations. She simply knew, and as silently as she knew, she gave all the support she could to her peculiar and troubled friend. It was always so with Isla; memories of Sirius still tormented her in the form of nightmares, and her family's attitude towards her only served to intensify them. But Sophia had began to suspect a new reason for such melancholy had now introduced itself, even if Isla was not yet aware of it. She knew that, beneath the seeming obedience, embers were in Isla's soul, and the slightest breeze would ignite them into a roaring fire. She trembled for her; she could not predict how Isla, so ill-fitted to the pure-blood society, would bring herself to do all that her family required of her. Being the daughter of such an ancient and wealthy family, her task would be no trifle. Something had changed during the course of the summer, but Sophia was unable to make out what. She was apprehensive of the future; she could not foresee her reaction to her imminent marriage, for an advantageous union would be required of Isla the moment she completed her studies at Hogwarts, as Sophia knew only too well. She had always been uneasy for her friend, but of late she was growing more and more worried with each passing day. She could do little more than wait and hope, however, and so, for the time being, she let Isla be.

As Sophia was occupied with such anxious thoughts for her friend, Isla lay in her four-poster bed calm, staring at the ceiling. The volume bound in green leather with Shakespeare's complete works was clutched in her hand. She had caught a glimpse of Bob Hitchens in the Great Hall at the start of term feast, but she had been unable to talk to him. All she could hope for was to get a chance to arrange a meeting with him before the week was out. She was eager to discuss with him all that she had read. After her birthday, Isla would each day await impatiently her release from her revision sessions with her aunt in order to run up to her room, sit in the armchair by the open window and take into her lap the precious volume to immerse herself into the muggle world that Bob had introduced her to. She would invariably sit up all night, reading play after play, laughing or fighting tears in turns, as the Bard's words flowed on the delicate paper between her fingers. How she longed to know Bob's favorite play, his favorite character, his favorite lines! Exhaustion soon got the better of her, and as she tried to guess his preferences, she drifted into sleep.

* * *

The first week of term had passed before Isla and Bob had a chance to meet; both soon realized that the ensuing year would by no means be easy, quite the contrary in fact. The difficulty of the subjects was dramatically increased in comparison to previous years, and the teachers were inclement in the amount of homework they assigned. As the weather was still fine for that time of year, they chose to stroll down to the border of the Forbidden Forest after diner, where no one ever came. They walked side by side without speaking for some time, enjoying each other's presence without wishing to disturb the companionable silence that had enveloped them. Neither could really explain how they had reached such a level of ease in one another's company; they did not choose to examine closely their feelings, content as they were with the present and disregarding of the future. June, when their paths would suddenly and irrevocably divide, seemed a century away.

"I cannot thank you enough, Mr Hitchens, for your gift. It has been an invaluable companion to me over the summer, and I have enjoyed immensely William Shakespeare's work", Isla at last broke the silence.

"I am very glad you liked it", replied Bob with a smile. "I hoped you would enjoy it. Though it is based on a culture quite different of the one you have lived in, I thought that you would sympathize with the characters and marvel in the language. Which play did you enjoy the most?"

"Oh, I think King Lear and Hamlet are my favorites", said she excitedly.

"'As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods. They kill us for their sport.' I had a feeling you would take a liking to King Lear. But did you not enjoy his comedies? I must admit that Much Ado About Nothing is the one I keep rereading, apart from King Lear and Othello."

"Beatrice and Benedick are the creations of pure genius! But as for Othello... I admire and pity Desdemona immensely, but I cannot help feeling that Othello should have had more faith in her. It breaks my heart to think that such a loving couple should be torn thus apart by such persons as Iago."

They continued thus, reciting their favorite lines, analyzing the characters' actions and passions, laughing and teasing each other till the sun was set. Time flew by that evening for both as they carelessly strolled on the edge of the forest. But as the stars took their place twinkling in the heavens above, they reluctantly made their way back to the castle. At the Marble Staircase, they bid goodnight in soft voices, and with languid smiles on their faces they each made their way to their dormitories, impatient for the next opportunity to have such a delightful conversation.

Isla entered the common room to find it nearly deserted; three or four fifth-years were studying quietly in one corner, and in front of the fireplace a couple of sixth-years were playing chess. Sophia was sitting in their usual nook, with a book open in her lap, but she was not paying any attention whatsoever to it. She was looking most intensely at Isla, who made her way towards her and sank in the armchair next to her.

"You are back late", commented Sophia, as her eyes searched her friend's face.

"Are you giving me detention for breaking curfew, Head Girl?", asked Isla with a wry smile.

For all her jesting, Isla could not quite meet her companion's eye. This did not go unnoticed by Sophia, who raised an eyebrow, and silently returned her attention to her book.

"I am sorry, Sophia", said Isla with a sigh. "I am tired. I was studying in the library."

The sparkling green eyes looked intently into the black ones, before Isla lowered her gaze from that of her friend's.

"Oh, Isla, please be careful. Do not do anything foolish that might cost you too dearly now that your brother is not here to scare you."

And with that, Sophia rose and went to their dormitory, leaving Isla perplexed.

* * *

Icarus Slughorn, the tall fifth year beater, had been appointed Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team. Deciding that he would retain the team as it had been the previous year, he was looking for two chasers to fill in the gaps that were left by the graduation of Andronicus Gamp and Jacob Greengrass. The tryouts were held in the second week of term, and the captain booked the Quidditch pitch for the Slytherin team immediately. Isla's skill was enough for Slughorn to forget the last game of the previous year, and overlook her outburst that followed her failure.

Slytherin could not possibly tolerate another blunder with regard to Quidditch, and Slughorn was very conscious of the heavy responsibility resting on his shoulders; the House's pride was dependent on winning the Quidditch and House Cup, which had both eluded Slytherin for five years running. A very strict training program was devised, and all of the players were trying their best to live up to their captain's expectations. Slughorn, knowing only too well that victory almost solely depended on the Seeker, took a keen interest in Isla, and shaped a special training program according to her strengths and weaknesses.

Duilius was the only member of the team who was friendly towards her, but considering that in a school of nearly two thousand pupils Isla had three friends, she was not in the least disappointed by her fellow players. Indeed, between classes, studying and Quidditch practice, she had so little spare time to reflect on any other matter, that she scarcely noticed her complete lack of a social life. However, she missed Bob's company. They saw each other every day, but could never acknowledge one another, let alone fall into conversation, in packed corridors or the Great Hall at lunchtime. Soon, November came, and with it the cold and the rain, and they had had only a few chances to exchange hurried and muttered civilities in the dark nooks of the library.

Returning to the castle from the Quidditch pitch on a rainy afternoon in mid-November, Isla saw Bob beckoning at her from behind one of the greenhouses. She made an excuse to Slughorn, with whom she had been practicing, amazed at the speed with which her brain had furnished her with a believable lie, as well as her own composure at delivering it. Slowly, she made her way to Bob, checking once or twice that Slughorn was safely out of earshot. Bob greeted her with a smile that lighted his large, blue eyes as he held the door of the greenhouse ajar for her to pass. As soon as she was sheltered from the rain, Isla realized that she was dripping mud, and was soaked through. She felt slightly uncomfortable about her appearance, a sensation completely new to her that she could not explain. Bob, however, his smile never disappearing from his face, seemed very glad to be at last able to talk with her, despite the amount of mud that was attached to her robes.

"How are you, Miss Black? I am afraid we have both been very busy with our studying of late", he said in his booming voice.

Isla sighed tiredly, but managed a weak smile. She too was happy to have a chat with him to complain too much about classes.

"It is only for this year, I am certain it will pass quickly enough, and then we shall be free to do as we please!" said Isla merrily, but, perceiving a frown of incredulity on Bob's brow, she explained herself. "I know perfectly well that I will not be mistress of myself the moment I set foot on Platform 9 3/4 in June, but I hope I am allowed to jest about it. No; I shall be very sorry when this year ends, and have to leave Hogwarts for good."

"Come now", said Bob softly, "I am sure it will not be half so bad as you expect. Besides, we still have seven months, and our NEWTs at the end of them. I think that is enough to keep anyone's mind off departure."

They fell in silence for a moment or two, each absorbed by their own hopes and fears of the future. Isla soon realized that her broomstick was under severe scrutiny by her companion, and immediately demanded to know why.

"I admit I admire you for your courage to mount one of these", he answered, pointing at the broomstick. "I still cannot get accustomed to the idea of flying broomsticks, let alone of riding one myself."

"Quidditch games must be downright bizarre for you to watch. I wonder that you _do_ watch them at all."

"Well, I could hardly call myself Paul Kirkpatrick's friend if did _not_ support him at his Quidditch matches."

Isla, inevitably thinking of the Quidditch final last year, blushed furiously with shame, and, judging by the fact that Bob bent uncomfortably his cheery blue eyes from her face to the ground, his memory could not be very differently employed. Bob broke the awkward silence that ensued swiftly.

"The fact is, Miss Black, that I prefer to stand firmly on the ground, thank you very much."

Isla laughed, relieved that Bob had averted with such skill from the dangerous topic that had threatened them previously.

"I cannot pretend to understand your uneasiness for them, Mr Hitchens, but then I cannot recall a time of my life when I did not ride a broom. But traveling with muggle means must be so irksome and time-consuming, with no broomsticks, Portkeys or Apparition. I mean, judging by the Hogwarts Express..." She shuddered.

It was now Bob's turn to laugh at Isla's description of muggle travel methods. But, ere long, the conversation inevitably wound its way to classes and studying. Both expressed their fatigue and anxiety over the examinations that would be taken at the end of the school year, and how they longed for a holiday.

"At least we shall have a day off on Saturday", said Bob cheerily. "I always find that a stroll down the Hogsmeade Main Street and a warm butterbeer lift my spirits."

"I wish I could have such high expectations of pleasure on this particular Hogsmeade weekend as you", replied Isla, downcast, but seeing the inquisitive look in Bob's face, she proceeded to explain. "My brother is visiting me, along with two friends from London."

Bob's eyebrows were raised high on his forehead and disappeared behind his brown curls as her uneasiness became clear. Looking at their watches, however, brought them back to reality; if they wished not to be late for dinner, and consequently raise unwanted questions at the Slytherin table, they should be setting off in the direction of the castle. A little way before the great oak doors, they took leave of each other most cordially, and entered the castle in seemingly perfect indifference of one another, but, secretly, their hearts glowing with contentment.

* * *

No matter how much Isla wished the upcoming Hogsmeade visit to be cancelled, Saturday morning dawned and no notice of cancellation or postponement could be found anywhere. Accepting the fact that she would have to face a very self-satisfied Phineas (he had recently become secretary to the Head of the Department of Mysteries) and his intolerable friends, instead of the quiet company of Sophia and Duilius, she returned to her dormitory, to change from her nightgown. She dressed with unusual care; she did not wish to provoke Phineas' snide remarks by her apparel. He would, of course, be accompanied by Caracactus Burke and Andronicus Gamp; the first, she loathed, the second, she believed to be a hypocrite. She knew her way around hypocrites, having for a brother the greatest hypocrite at the age of eighteen; the trick was to flatter them and pretend to be flattered by them. However, Mr Gamp's conversation was pleasanter than most who boasted purity of blood, and his manners were considerably more refined than those of her brother or Mr Burke. Ursula Flint would, of course, be joining them, at Phineas' particular request. Isla expected little enjoyment on such a day. Her only consolation was that Phineas has condescended to invite Sophia on the outing as well, and that, she suspected, was only for the sake of balancing the numbers.

As soon as the three girls finished their breakfast, they slowly made their way towards the gates of the grounds, which had been chosen as the meeting point. After short greetings and wishes that they all were well, which struck Isla as quite false, Phineas offered his arm to Miss Flint, and the whole party set off in the direction of Hogsmeade. An unpleasant silence threatened the rest of the group, but Sophia had the decency to break it.

"I hope business is going well in your new shop, Mr Burke", she said, embarking on a topic she could handle, her family being in trade for centuries. "I hear it is in Knockturn Alley."

It was left to Isla and Mr Gamp, therefore, to entertain one another, but she could think of nothing that would be sufficiently interesting to commence a conversation. Mr Gamp, however, obliged her on that score by asking her questions. Is Slughorn a decent captain? Who made the Quidditch team this year? Avery made the Team? Merlin, what was Slughorn thinking of? Well, I am certain he knows what he is about, as was Greengrass.

Isla did not miss the bitterness hidden behind the fake smile of universal goodwill that adorned Mr Gamp's face as he uttered the last sentence. They again fell silent for a moment or two, as they walked through the fields in the cold morning. Before long, Isla perceived Phineas intensely studying her and Mr Gamp. His expression was unreadable, but it made her want to end this discomforting silence and recommence the conversation.

"I hear that you play now for the Edinburgh United Quidditch team."

"Indeed I do."

"Well, I always believed your talent would be appreciated, and therefore you could not fail to have a career in Quidditch", said Isla, smiling deceitfully to Andronicus Gamp.

He bowed his head in what he hoped to be a modest manner, but Isla recognized it immediately for what it truly was: vanity. She turned her face away in order to hide a sardonic smile, as he expanded on the best topic that Isla could have possibly chosen: himself.

The day passed peacefully, or, as Isla would have preferred to call it had she been at liberty to speak her own mind, dully. At least Phineas had been too preoccupied making himself agreeable to Miss Flint to take much notice of her. However, returning to Hogwarts, she had several reasons to be anxious; even after Sophia had finished her long conversation with Mr Burke, and Phineas seemed disposed to acknowledge the presence of someone other than Ursula, Mr Gamp never, not even for a moment, left her side. He seemed determined to engage her attention for as long as possible. Had something been agreed upon between her parents and his that she was not aware? Was he earnestly interested in her of his own, free will? Or was he simply trying to charm the daughter of an old, wealthy pure-blood family? Isla might have thought it civility, had she not known Gamp for what he was, or had she not noticed her brother's sideway glances towards them whenever they seemed engrossed by one another. This was a situation Isla had not expected to find herself before she had finished school, and it awakened her to the reality that awaited her the moment she left Hogwarts for good. She was afraid, but let nothing of her emotions show on her countenance. She silently walked towards the castle, taking part in no conversation, and heeding nothing but her destination. She noticed, as the party was reaching the gates of Hogwarts, that Phineas was walking beside her.

"Well, Isla, I hope your studying is going according to plan", said Phineas as if seriously doubting it.

"Thank you, brother, it is. And I hope that _your_ plans", she replied, nodding in Ursula's direction, who was a few steps ahead of them, "are turning out well too."

"Perfectly so, I thank you", answered Phineas, his eyes twinkling with the flush of almost certain success.

"I hope you love her enough to marry her", Isla blurted out.

She instantly realized her blunder, as Phineas, turned his head and stared at her in disbelief and something that greatly resembled disgust. She had no idea how such words came in her mouth, let alone managed to slip from her tongue, and in front of Phineas no less! What could she have been thinking of? Perhaps Shakespeare had affected her sense and discretion after all. Phineas sneered disdainfully, and started walking once more.

"Love", he uttered the word as if it were the worst possible swear word, "has nothing to do with marriage."

His voice was deadly cold, and it reminded her alarmingly of her father's voice. Isla knew better than to reply. She suddenly felt that her brother was wrong, and she wanted to scream at him to see some sort of human reaction coming from him, but she had not yet taken leave of her senses. Not completely, at least.

None of them spoke another word until they reached the gates and made their farewells. As soon as the men turned on the spot and vanished, Sophia made an excuse to Ursula, and dragged Isla to a secluded spot near the greenhouses. She surrendered completely to her friend's astonishing force. Frankly, she did not have much of a choice. Sophia cast a spell to protect them from being overheard, and turned to face Isla.

"_Have you lost your mind?_"

Isla had never before seen her so enraged, or heard her shout.

"_What_ in Merlin's name where you _thinking_ of? Do you have _any_ idea what Phineas could make out of that? Is it news to you that, with the slightest hint of disobedience, your father will cut you off and leave you to _starve_?"

Isla looked at Sophia wide eyed and felt her cheeks warm with the blood that had rushed to them. She avoided Sophia's gaze; she could not look at their clear green color without feeling ashamed of her reckless behavior.

"No", she said quietly.

Sophia took a deep breath and managed to calm herself.

"Sophia, I am sorry. I do not know what got hold of me."

"Oh, but I do. This is not an unguarded moment, this is your heart taking over your brain. I know that, since that wretched Quidditch final, something has happened to you. But I thought you could control it. You evidently _cannot_, so you must end whatever has put such thoughts in your rebellious head."

"N-no one, n-nothing is putting thoughts in my-"

"No one?"

She stared straight into Isla's eyes, horror and astonishment clearly visible in her beautiful face.

"This is Professor Williams' fault. He talked to you after that infernal Quidditch match. He made you apologize to the mudblood, Hitchens, didn't he?"

Isla could not answer. She stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to react in any way.

"You are in love with him."

It was a statement, not a question, that Sophia posed, and her voice was full of incredulity of her own words. This, at last, brought a fierce response from Isla.

"In Merlin's name, don't be ridiculous, Sophia!"

Her cry, in all its earnestness, pacified Sophia, and she seemed to take Isla's word. But she was not completely convinced; if she was not in love now, her behavior indicated that she would be, and very soon indeed.

"Besides", continued Isla in a shy whisper, "are you not in love with Duilius? Do you not wish to marry him? Why shouldn't Phineas, or I come to that, marry for love?"

"Yes, I love him. And yes, I do wish to marry him. But, Isla", she said, softly, full of compassion for her friend's as yet unconfessed feelings, "he is a pure-blood. And what is more, I am not a Black. You and your brother and sister cannot do entirely as you wish. You must please you status and your family before you please yourselves."

Isla's black eyes were bent to the ground, as the truth of her friend's words hit her. She slowly nodded her head, still unable to look her straight in the eye, and started walking towards the castle in the twilight. Sophia sighed deeply, and followed her to dinner.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Bludger

The rest of November progressed far too quickly, and December was soon upon them. Due to all the studying and the training, Isla felt as if there were not enough hours in the day. Exhaustion was her only feeling each night as she lay her weary body on her bed. At least the nightmares that had troubled her even more than usual in the summer had ceased to visit her in the small hours of the night.

With so much to worry about, she had not had a chance for another chat with Bob. What was more, she had little time to even regret this. Sophia discreetly had an eye out for her friend, constantly searching for unusual behavior, or any other signs that would admit a partiality for Mr Hitchens. She was not disappointed; even though Isla was fully aware that she was under continuous scrutiny from her, she could not contain a smile each time she met Bob by chance either at class or a corridor. No one else could have noticed, but her dark eyes sparkled brighter than the North Star each time they made contact with Bob's cheery blue eyes. Sophia was fully aware that, had not Isla's strength been lessened by the tiredness, she would have never been so obvious to read, even to her.

In truth, what scared Sophia the most was that Isla was in denial. For, until she comprehended and accepted her true feelings for Bob, there was nothing to be done to overcome the problem. She knew that, before her friend ended the frenzy of recklessness in which she had entered, before things became better, they would become worst. Not being the only one worrying for Isla, she had confided all she suspected to Duilius, who had the decency to remain discreet about it. Neither of them had any idea as to what was to be done, and so had resolved to let things unfold on their own, acting only once it would be necessary. _At least she does well in classes and Quidditch_, thought Sophia on the eve of the first Quidditch match of the season. Little did she know that on that night, Isla's sleep would be broken by a nightmare; a nightmare in which she lived yet again her beloved brother's death.

* * *

As she stepped onto the Quidditch pitch, Isla felt calm despite the torturing dreams, the rain, the wind and the thunder that disturbed the skies in which she was soon to fly in. For the past three months the Slytherin Quidditch team had trained hard, and under the skillful leadership of Icarus Slughorn had reached a level of cooperation that had not been seen in years in the school. Their confidence and their expectations were boosted so that they were not daunted by the fierce December storm that was raging for three days running. Next to her she felt Duilius twitching slightly, but when she turned her head to examine him, he appeared absolutely serene. Isla herself felt her stomach tighten a little; no matter how hard they trained, or how confident they were, there would always be a small amount of nervousness. There was one factor that no one could boast to control: chance.

The Slytherin and Gryffindor leaders shook hands in a fashion that meant they each intended to crash the other to the ground, and the players mounted their brooms for take-off. The rain poured heavily, and the wind blew menacingly, moaning and making communication between the players impossible. An occasional thunder would disrupt the monotonous song of the angry wind, illuminating equally angry gestures of a Slytherin player towards a Gryffindor, or vice versa. Isla, however, did not notice, for the tactics that her Captain had formed were very specific: wait until the Slytherin team is a good hundred points ahead of Gryffindor before catching the Snitch; do all you can to prevent the Gryffindor Seeker from ending the game, should he find the small golden ball before you do. With so many things demanding her attention, she wasted little time and energy on the rivalries between the teams, or the mean messages of either the red and gold or silver and green crowds.

It was an hour and a half before Slytherin managed to achieve a satisfactory margin of a hundred and twenty points with Gryffindor. Isla urged her broom to accelerate, as she strained her eyes in search of the flitting ball that would end the game. By that time, her robes were soaking, and the Impervious charm had worn out. Her eyes stung by the immense amount of water that was hitting them as she frantically searched through the heavy curtain of rain. Several times the wind got the better of her, and as she was small and light, she was easily blown off course. Half an hour was lost thus, allowing time to Gryffindor to close the gap in the score. Isla could wait no more for her team to reach an advantage of nearly a hundred points, so, when at last she caught a glimpse of a tiny golden shimmer flying upwards, she immediately gained speed in its direction. The Gryffindor Seeker soon realized that Isla had spotted the Snitch, so her promptly followed her. But there was no way he could surpass her.

As Isla spun around to check on his progress, she saw through the corner of her eye a mute communication of two members of the opposite team. She was not concerned by what she had seen, and quickly focused her attention on the Snitch, which was every instant becoming larger; she was almost there.

Through the heavy rain, and the blowing of the wind, and the thunder that struck a few seconds before, she did not hear nor did she see the bludger that a Gryffindor Beater sent swooshing her way. She did not hear the gasp of the crowd, or Duilius calling to her to look out. She suddenly felt a sharp pain in the back of her head. Isla had no time to analyze the sensation for what it was before she passed out, and fell off her broom.

* * *

Isla slowly regained consciousness. At first, all she was aware of was a dull, but constant, ache on her head. She tried opening her eyes, but was blinded by the rays of the sun entering from a window just above her head. She immediately shut them again, and relied on the rest of her senses to deduce her location; she was lying on something soft. She thought this unexpected; she should have been laying on the hard, wet ground. This thought was enough to return her memory to her; the Quidditch match. She tried to raise her head to get out of bed, for she realized she was lying down in the Hospital Wing, but a searing pain went through her scull. Admitting defeat immediately, she groaned in frustration and gave up this fruitless effort.

No sooner had she rested her head once more on the pillow, than a sharp intake of breath and the shrieks of "Oh, Mrs McFarland! She came round!" caused her to open her eyes again. This time she could keep them open, for the sun was blighted by a passing cloud. She saw Sophia looking worriedly down at her. The matron was soon by her side, and without further ado began her tests and examinations to make sure that nothing was out of order. Satisfied with the results, she helped Isla into a sitting position on her bed, talking extra care to place her head on a pillow.

"Now, Miss Prince, do not excite her, or you will have me to answer to; her situation is too delicate!", said Mrs McFarland sternly to Sophia. "I shall ask one of the house elves to bring Miss Black some dinner; she must be starving."

Sophia waited as the matron departed before turning to Isla and smiling sweetly to her.

"We have been dreadfully worried about you!", said she overcome with emotion.

"What happened?", said Isla, still unable to recall the details.

"You took a bludger to the head. You fell from your broom, but fortunately Professor Williams had the presence of mind to perform a Cushioning Charm. Not that you landed unscathed; you broke your left arm and your left leg", she said, running a hand over her eyes.

"But I feel no pain in my arm or in my leg."

"Oh, Mrs McFarland fixed those in one night!"

"For how long have I been unconscious?", said Isla, fearing the answer.

"About a week", said Sophia hesitantly.

"A week?", she nearly screamed in despair. "But-but the game, and the classes and the _homework_", she continued in terror.

"Ah, ah, you heard Mrs McFarland; no excitement. Isla, you took a serious blow in the head. You are very lucky to have come round so soon with no damage to the brain."

"Yes, but what happened? Who won?"

"You will discuss Quidditch with Duilius later. Now you shall make yourself comfortable and eat", said Sophia, placing the tray that Mrs McFarland had brought her in front of her.

"Duilius is coming?", asked Isla in a low voice.

"Yes", said Sophia, pressing her hand. "We took turns in sitting by your side. We did not want you to wake on your own."

Isla could not reply; she did not trust her voice to be even as she expressed her thanks. Tears appeared in her eyes, and she looked away as Sophia was bustling around her, arranging her dinner on the tray. Gratitude for her two best friends threatened to consume her. She took Sophia's hand and looked into her green eyes. She did not have to say her thanks. Sophia nodded her comprehension, and held the knife and fork up to her.

* * *

It appeared that when Isla finally regained consciousness, it was about midday. She was informed by Duilius, who visited her in the afternoon, that Gryffindor had won the game, but only by thirty points; there was every reason to suppose that they could win the Cup this year, he reassured her. Isla also found out that Mr Slughorn was not angry at her, and was anxious that his invaluable seeker made a full recovery.

On the next day, a weekend day, Isla was told to expect her brother for a visit. At first the news surprised her, but as Sophia informed her that Ursula had decided at last to visit her dear friend Isla at approximately the same time, any astonishment she had felt evaporated instantly. After dinner, Isla was pleased to see Elladora pass the doors of the Hospital Wing. She sat by her side, and after the established inquiries about her health, she rattled along about her classes, her homework, her friends, and the impending Hogsmeade visit, that Isla would obviously miss. Isla was relieved to see her go after half an hour of having to nod her painful head to every trivial thing her sister cared to bring up.

She would have endured a thousand such visits from Elladora gladly, however, in order to avoid Phineas' call on her. He arrived promptly at eleven on Saturday, and shortly afterwards Miss Flint entered the room, her hair in a perfect bun, and a little too much powder spread across her cheeks, simpering as she walked towards Isla's bed in a manner she hoped looked like gliding. The spectacle was slightly ridiculous, and under different circumstances, Isla would have been sorely tempted to laugh. Ursula stayed for ten minutes, and then departed in order to "leave her dear friend in the company of her delightful brother", batting her eyelashes to the delightful brother in question before rising from her seat. Isla could not help but sigh; she was now alone with Phineas.

"I do hope, dear sister, that this foolish Quidditch thing has not permanently damaged your mind", he said, relaxing back into his chair and examining her closely with a malevolent smirk on his handsome face.

"Not at all, dear brother", replied Isla with a smile that betrayed neither the annoyance nor the anger that she felt. "Mrs McFarland informs me that I will be right as rain in a day or two."

She was now well-equipped to play this game. She knew the rules, and she knew the hypocrisy that had at all made the game necessary. Oh, she had no scruple at all in abusing the whole of the pure-blood society in their faces without them realizing it. Her own family was no exception.

"I am glad to hear it", said he, raising an incredulous eyebrow. "Our parents will be glad to hear it, too, I dare say."

"I dare say they will be", said Isla cooly.

"You know," said Phineas, glancing at her sideways, "Mr Gamp has been uneasy on your account."

"How kind of him. Please thank him on my behalf."

"Well, you shall see him quite soon yourself; Jason Malfoy is getting married on Christmas Eve. Not too weeks away. That is, if you are in a fit state to appear to such a distinguished company", he said, eyeing the bandages on her head.

"I had quite forgotten about the wedding. As for the bandages, I am told that they shall be removed tomorrow."

"I am sure they will be. Let us hope that no bump shall protrude from your head once they are."

"Oh, Phineas! How can you doubt Mrs McFarland's skill when you yourself have had proof of her great gift with healing spells and potions?", she replied merrily, reminding him of an accident he had had on his forth year.

The potion he was brewing began bubbling uncontrollably, and a bubble had burst with such force that his face was covered with the horrid liquid. By the time he had reached the Hospital Wing, his visage had turned green and spots filled with mucus had began to appear. The matron had, of course, set him to rights in a thrice, but not before a third of the school's population had seen the haughty Black boy running in the corridors, his face distorted from the accident.

Ere long, Phineas rose to leave, in quite a state of mind. Isla was delighted on her first victory over her ice-cold brother.

* * *

On Sunday morning, Mrs McFarland removed the bandages, and made a lengthy examination of her patient. Thankfully, there was no permanent harm done. Not even a bump, however small, was left on Isla's head to remind her of the accident, but her head was still painful on the spot were the bludger had hit her. Mrs McFarland insisted, however, that Isla should stay a couple days more under her care, just in case some complication appeared. The good matron had dispatched notes to all her teachers that Isla Black would be excused from her homework until Christmas, and to Slughorn that, should she learn that Miss Black had so much as touched a broom, he would be discussing with the Headmaster the arrangements for his permanent return home.

On Monday morning, Isla was surprised to see Professor Williams enter the Hospital Wing, and request an audience with the matron's convalescent patient. His wish was granted, as the matron was sorry to see Miss Black had had so few visitors, especially since most of them had seemed unwilling to see the invalid. The professor drew a chair near the foot of her bed, and once he was assured of privacy, he began inquiring Isla after her health. She reassured him of her being in fine health, with only the inconvenience of a stab of pain or two in the back of her head.

"Well, Miss Black, I am very relieved to hear it", he said genially.

Isla bowed her head in thanks.

"Miss Black, I know this is hardly the place or the time for such a conversation", he said after a brief pause, "but I doubt I shall have another opportunity to discuss such matters with you discreetly and without being interrupted or overheard."

"Do go on, sir", urged Isla, intrigued.

"I have been considering for some years now the possibility of conducting a research with regards the transfiguration of food, as it might be a possible exception to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. This is a most difficult and very peculiar branch of Transfiguration. Now, as from July, the Headmaster has kindly given me permission to be absent from the school on weekends and holidays in order to render my research possible. He has also helped me to get a fund from the Ministry, with which I am to find a laboratory and set up a paid team to assist me in my endeavors. I have engaged the floor above Flourish and Blotts for the laboratory, and the four out of the five persons that will be part of that team. You are, as I have told you before, the most talented student in Transfiguration that I have taught in the whole of my career", he said, as Isla's cheeks were stained by a surge of red. "I would, therefore, like you to join this team, provided of course that your grades in Transfiguration and Charms are higher than Exceeds Expectations."

Isla was literally left speechless. After staring incredulously at her professor for some time, she decided that this was not a cruel joke that he was playing at her, but a sincere offer.

"Professor Williams, I am very honored by your proposition. I shall certainly try my best to achieve the required results, for I would not dream of missing such an opportunity. Thank you."

"Oh, nonsense Miss Black! I am pleased to see your enthusiasm for the project. Now", he said rising, "I shall leave you to rest. Ah, there is one more thing; you shall need to come up with an excuse in order to acquire your family's permission to work under a muggle-born professor."

"Oh, I think I can find something suitable until then", she said smiling wryly. "And, in any case, if we should arrive at some groundbreaking discovery, the fact that a Black was part of it will not be altogether disagreeable to them, even if it was under the guidance of a muggle-born wizard."

* * *

On Tuesday morning, Mrs McFarland was relieved to say that Miss Black had made a full recovery from the blow, and at last let her return to her dormitory and day-to-day life. Without homework or Quidditch practice, Isla had quite a lot of time to spare. She would stroll the castle, or walk in the snow-covered grounds. One evening, as she descended the Marble Staircase to join the rest of the school to dinner, her eye caught Bob Hitchens waiting by an empty classroom. Making sure that no one had seen her, she joined him and shut the door behind her.

He seemed immensely relieved to see her well.

"Miss Black, I am so glad to see you so well recovered, and quite so soon! I was very desperate, especially since I had no way of being informed of your progress. I was left to imagine the worst."  
"You are very kind, Mr Hitchens. I am perfectly alright. There was no real danger, I assure you."  
"Thank Heavens!", he whispered with feeling, as he pressed her hand.

Isla's happiness at his obvious anxiety over her health was immense, and wholly without explanation. The smile that adorned his lips as he examined her closely, his warm hand covering hers, as he realized that there was truly nothing the matter with her, was the most heart-warming sight she had ever seen, and, as their eyes met in the surrounding silence, her heart raced in her chest. She felt strangely certain that this was an intimate moment she would not be forgetting in a hurry.

* * *

_Author's Note: As always, thanks for reading! Hope you are enjoying it!_

_Don't forget to leave a review! Thanks!_


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Inexplicable Feelings

Over the last week before the Christmas holidays, Isla was cheerfulness itself; she had something to look forward to once she had finished school, the castle and grounds were beautiful at this time of year, and Bob's look and smile as he beheld her after her accident pleased her more than she cared to admit to anyone, including herself. Her parents received a different daughter to the silent, grave-looking one they were used to. They were certain that the blow on her head had, after all, affected her brain.

Once she was home, Isla's spirits sunk a little, and her sleep was again disturbed by the same nightmare that seemed to torment her whenever she was at Number 12. Only now, she would wake up with a sharp pain in the back of her scull that subsided only once she lifted her head from the pillow. She would then pace her bedchamber, until she could sleep once more. At those moments, her mind would inexplicably wander in Bob Hitchens' direction. How the remembrance of his broad smile as he was satisfied that she was not severely injured lifted her spirits! Why deny it? Bob made her feel human, a sensation she only had with Sophia and Duilius.

The wedding of Mr Jason Malfoy to Miss Yaxley was of course all that anyone talked about, from Mr and Mrs Black, to Phineas and Elladora, to Ursula, Sophia and Duilius. Isla was not at all looking forward to the event. She could not avoid it, however, and she therefore obliged her family by purchasing new dress robes, and making a real effort with her appearance that evening. She was clad in midnight blue muslin robes, her hair was loosely plaited, and diamond jewelry hung from her neck, ears and wrists. She was keenly aware of Andronicus Gamp's eyes on her for the whole of the ritual, and was not in the least surprised to find him addressing her as soon as the reception began. She chanced to glance at her father at that moment, who nodded approvingly at her before commencing a conversation with an elderly man standing nearby. Isla was engaged almost exclusively by Mr Gamp for the entirety of the evening, thus spending very little time with either Sophia or Duilius. She managed perfectly well to play her part to her suitor.

Thankfully, seeing his courting received so well by his chosen one, Mr Gamp decided that he should dedicate a few dances to his sister's friends, allowing Isla to sit silently down next to Sophia for awhile, sipping a goblet of the best elf wine. Having a few moments of peace, free at last to think for herself without having to please anyone, she went over the conversations she had had with Mr Gamp. One thing was certain; she could never love, nor esteem him. He was not ill-looking, and definitely better company than most of the boorish members of the high pure-blood society, but his hypocrisy and constant flattery tired her in ways that Phineas, in all his obnoxiousness, could never hope to achieve. He was wooing her surname and her fortune instead of herself, and though such was the case with most pure-blood couples, she had always hoped that she would be lucky, and fall in love. The way that Sophia and Duilius, who were sitting by her, chatting and laughing in blissful harmony, were lucky. There must be good men in the world, she knew there must be. Whether she would chance to meet such a man, and have him approved by her family was another matter altogether, a matter she preferred not to think on. She longed for a fine, intelligent man, who could speak sincerely to her, and form an attachment to her not because of who her family was, but because of who Isla, her appearance and personality, was. A man like one of Shakespeare's heroes. A man like Bob Hitchens.

Realization dawned on her as slowly and surely as the moon was rising in the east at the same moment. Sophia had been right; she was in love. In love with Bob Hitchens. Happiness, wild and irrational happiness took over every single emotion in her soul, and for the briefest of moments her cheeks radiated the fulfillment and contentment she felt at finally realizing that love was possible, and that she was feeling love for the cheery, blue-eyed Ravenclaw boy that so gallantly had taken her side when everyone else seemed to turn against her.

She did not know how, or when such feelings had been created in her heart, but they were there now. Oh, how small, insignificant and intolerable did Andronicus Gamp seemed to her at that moment in comparison with the gentle, sweet, intelligent, feeling young man that would always encourage her and see the best in her!

"Isla?", came Sophia's worried voice from her side. "What happened? Are you unwell?"

She could not stop grinning, now that she knew her own heart.

"No", she answered breathlessly. "No, I am fine. In fact, I have never felt this good!"

Now Sophia was well and truly anxious for her friend's mental health. She begged her to tell her what was the matter, urging her to talk plainly and not to further annoy her with riddles.

"You were right", replied she, with a dazzling smile. "You were absolutely right; I do love him."

Sophia took a moment to fully register what her companion had just told her. Once she did, her beautiful features darkened with sadness and pity for her friend.

"Oh, Isla", she said in a whisper, taking her hand. "I am glad that you realized at last, for now you can end whatever exists between the two of you."

The lightness of her head at finally understanding her heart smashed suddenly in the music-filled ballroom of the Malfoy Manor.

"You _must _stop this madness, Isla. Can you not see that there is no way that your family will give you their blessing to marry such a man, assuming of course that he reciprocates your feelings? And then, what? You shall be a housewife, with very little money to raise the numerous children that will inevitably follow. And if he does not love you? You shall be destitute within a week. You need your family's support, Isla. They may not be all you wish for, but they can provide you with protection and a good life, if you only do as you are told."

"B-but, Sophia, I cannot-"

"There is no other way. This is the society we belong in. We cannot defy it. We must live by its rules. We have no choice in the matter, and terrible heartache is the price we pay for ever allowing ourselves to question, doubt, or explore that which it sets out of our bounds."

"No. No, I refuse to believe that there is no life beyond this that we already know. We ourselves choose how we shall live our lives. Bob's friendship is the only real thing I have known. You cannot deny me that. You cannot deny me a real life. You cannot force me to live in hypocrisy for the rest of my days."

Isla felt tears threatening to burst at any moment. She took deep breaths, in an attempt to calm her turbulent mind and racing heart.

"I cannot. But your family can. Be under no illusion; they will prevail in the end. Isla", continued Sophia, her voice softening, "you must abide by the rules. And the rules are crystal clear on this score. Do not talk to him again. For both your sakes."

Of course. Isla Black, the daughter of Cygnus and Ella Black, was in love with muggle-born Bob Hitchens. It could never be. Her family would never even consider approving such a match. No, she was certain they would prefer to never see her again rather than let her bring such humiliation on the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Sophia was, once again, right. Isla rose without a word or a look at Sophia, ignoring her pleas to rejoin her. She made her way through the crowd, and found Gamp. No tears shined in her black eyes, her hands were not shaking, her smile had faded, but reappeared almost instantly. _Sophia is right, _she kept reminding herself. Only one thing remained for her: to dance the night away, until she could be alone in her room. Then, and only then, would she allow any suppressed emotion to surface. She could not afford to lose her composure now. More than once did she thank Merlin that Gamp was too self-important to require answers to his speeches.

* * *

No sooner had she closed the door of her chamber silently behind her than Isla, always so cautious and collected, broke down in tears. She took care to sob silently, for she could think of nothing worse than someone walking into her room and finding her in such a state. She had not lost her reason, despite her loving the last person it was considered reasonable to be in love with.

Dawn found her curled up in the armchair, still crying silently, her shoulders shaking. As the dim rays of the distant sun touched her, she found the power to stop the incontrollable stream of tears. Shakily, she made her way to her bed, were she buried herself under the covers and almost instantly fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

The curtains were open, but the rays that managed to escape the drifting clouds and invaded her room could not wake her. The sounds of the house slowly coming to life after the exhaustion of the previous night did nothing to alert her. No one looked for her, or wandered were she was, so Isla was left to her uneasy sleep until midday. The faint sound of tapping at her window, however, finally caused her to stir from her bed. She rose, and seeing an owl at the window, Isla opened it to let it in. A package was tied on one of its legs. Drowsily, Isla began tearing the paper it was wrapped in as soon as the bird had once more taken off through her open window. It was a book. She opened the front page, and read the title.

_Pride and Prejudice_

_a novel_

A card was attached to it, and she unfolded it to read it. She could not stop her hands from shaking as she recognized the handwriting on the envelope.

_Manchester, 25 December 1865_

_Dear Miss Black,_

_I wish you a very Merry Christmas! I hope you are enjoying your holidays and that your head is faring well. I sincerely wish I could have been at Mr Malfoy's wedding, for, by your description, I would witness a most horrid and ridiculous spectacle. Have a good time with your cousins tonight! I am certain I shall have a splendid holiday with my brothers and sisters!_

_May God(and Merlin) be with you!_

_Yours truly,_

_Bob Hitchens_

A single tear escaped her eyes and fell on Bob's signature. She immediately wiped it, anxious not to spoil the precious parchment. She carefully replaced the card in its envelope, and placed it in the book. Isla took a deep breath before enchanting the book to look like an old copy of the Daily Prophet, and hiding it in her bookcase. She did the same with _The Complete Works of William Shakespeare_. It would not do for anyone to find out she owned books of muggle literature.

Bob Hitchens, and his kind, considerate gifts, should be a thing of the past. She was a daughter of the House of Black, and she would act like one. She would walk through life with her head held high, as Sophia had urged her to do. She knew that the truest thing to do to satisfy her sense of honor and to suit her personality, inclination and feelings would be to disregard everything and everyone and admit to her family her friendly views towards muggles and muggle-borns, and her love for Bob. She could never do that, however. She was not in possession of a single Knut in the whole world, and she had to please her family to be fed and clothed. She could begin saving, and, in addition to her wagers, should she manage to enter Professor Williams' team, she could probably have enough to live on. Even then, though, she could never tell Bob that she loved him. No, it was too presumptuous of her to even consider that such a good, amiable and able man could have any feelings beyond pity for the lonely, damaged daughter of a snobbish family who had insulted him by calling him a- she could not even think of the word anymore. He was good-natured and kind, that was why he had forgiven Isla. Nothing more. Sophia was right. She would be risking her family's wrath for a man you would not love her back.

Her head ached, and her heart ached. She was at least glad that she would not be needed until the evening, when her cousins, the Maxes, would be coming to dinner. She was in no state to face anyone yet. For the first time in her life, she was immensely glad for her insignificance in the eyes of her family. She made her way to her bed once more, were she covered herself with the duvet, and slept. It was not long before her nightmares returned to disturb her. Only, this time, just as Sirius was about to jump into the river, the dream changed. She was at Hogsmeade Station, aboard the Hogwarts Express. The steam engine slowly started, and, as she glanced out of the window, she saw Hogwarts in the distance, and Bob on the platform, strolling indifferently, with his hands in his pockets. She shouted at him, but he did not turn around. The train accelerated, and tore her away from Bob and Hogwarts. She screamed in agony.

"Isla? Isla!", said her mother's voice at her door.

Isla startled awake, glad that she had not actually screamed.

"Isla, do get ready, they will be here in five minutes!"

"Yes, mother. I shall be down in a minute."

* * *

Isla was quiet throughout the dinner, but only Duilius seemed to notice her puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks. He looked at her with concern, but said nothing on the matter; naturally, Sophia had informed him of the conversation she had had with Isla. He let her be. He felt it would be better that way.

Once in the confinement of her room, she sat for hours in the complete darkness, until she fell asleep in her armchair. She was woken in the morning by Godam, who informed her that Mr Gamp had arrived, and her brother requested her to join them in the drawing room. Isla dressed impeccably. She had to be in the good books of both her family and Andronicus Gamp. Sophia, as always, had been right.

Absentmindedly, Isla's hand found its way to the small golden ring that adorned the little finger of her right hand. Her mind flew in past times, were rebellion heated her blood, and the thought of disinheritance caused her dreams of adventure and freedom, instead of the fear of persecution and misery that Sophia had so eloquently instilled in her mind last night, and that now chilled her blood. How had she gone from obedient daughter, to reckless adolescent, to calculating woman, she could not tell. She hated herself, and her family, and even Sophia, for forcing her into this horrible situation. But there was no escaping her birth, or her father's plans for her. How she longed for the courage to stand up for her own life! But no; she should go with the flow and stop complaining, however hard that was. She was a coward. She felt ill.

The holidays progressed slowly for Isla. She was required to attend all sorts of social events, in most of which Mr Gamp was in attendance. He always sought her out, and remained near her for the entirety of the evening. She received his attentions with seeming gratification, whilst silently wishing she could be in the safe haven of her chamber, where no one would follow or disturb her. Sophia never spoke to her about Bob again, but she smiled encouragingly whenever Mr Gamp was gallant to Isla. She restarted her studying in her few free hours each morning, for she could not bear being idle. Mrs McFarland would not be happy had she known that Miss Black was crying herself to sleep each night, and spend her days visiting and studying. A slight pain would sear through her scull every now and then, but Isla would take no notice of it, and soon it would subside.

As Bob Hitchens had received no reply to his gift and card, he began worrying that Isla was unwell. He therefore dispatched another note to her on New Year's Day. Isla trembled as she read it, but she calmed herself quickly, and with a steady hand hid the note inside the books that Bob had given her. She could not reply; to reply to his letters was to leave room for hope to flourish. She dreaded returning to Hogwarts for the first time. Who could tell what awaited her there? She could not, no would not, imagine her time there without the consolation of Bob's friendship, on which she had come to rely so implicitly over the past year. Isla decided that there was only one way to distract her mind from such agonizing thoughts; she should study until she was exhausted. Then she would never have enough energy to think, and her heart would be left in its sorrow, spared of any further pain. _Yes, this is a good plan_, she thought. But in sleep, new torments awaited her, for now Sirius visited her in her nightmares, and his face changed into Bob's. Isla would wake crying in her pillow, silently wishing she was good at potion-making; she would at least be able to make a potion that would relieve her of her nightmares. There was no such relief to be had, however, and the agony intensified with each passing night.

* * *

_Author's note: I am so sorry guys for the delay! I had a bit of hard time editing this chapter, I have to admit._

_Do not forget to drop a review! It always makes my day!_


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: End of a Friendship

As the Hogwarts Express passed through the countryside that was still covered with snow, Isla's stomach was tied into a knot, and she could not persuade herself to relax. It was impossible to feel at ease knowing that she was on the same train as Bob, and that each passing moment brought her nearer a meeting with him. A meeting in which she could not be open and friendly towards him any more. Isla trembled, for she knew that such a meeting would not be long in coming. Never in her life had she felt the journey to Hogwarts so agonizingly slow, nor had she ever feared returning to the castle. Was it not ironic that she now preferred home to her beloved school? Isla scoffed inwardly at the cruel tricks of fate.

After what seemed an eternity to Isla, the train finally arrived at Hogsmeade Station, and soon she was in her dormitory, preparing for bed. She left Sophia and Ursula chatting merrily about the holidays as she drew the curtains of her four-poster. She would not join the conversation; nothing she had to say of the holidays would be welcome news to either of her friends. Sophia would have been furious to hear of the method she had chosen to forget Bob, thus leading Isla to keep her in the dark. In any case, she wanted to rise early in order to begin her studying.

She found no repose in sleep, however, so at about six in the morning decided to get started with her plan of exhausting herself. She dressed silently, and went to the library. Miss Carr, the librarian, was too bleary-eyed to register that a student had entered the library before the sun had risen properly. She did not say anything, however, and went on lazily sorting a stack of books that were in front of her. When Isla had studied for two and a half hours, she decided that it would be a decent hour for her to join her fellow students in the Great Hall for breakfast. She collected her books in a flutter of anxiety and apprehension. She would see Bob Hitchens in the Great Hall. The moment she had feared and wished for simultaneously in the last two weeks was upon her. She could do nothing to prevent it. She drew a deep breath, and made her way slowly, but surely, towards the Great Hall.

But she was not as lucky as she supposed she would be; as she began descending the Marble Staircase, her eye caught Bob standing by the open door of an empty classroom on the ground floor, beckoning at her to join him, a warm smile adorning his features. She quickly looked away, as all the blood drained from her face, and pretended she had not seen him. She entered the Great Hall, and once she managed to find where Sophia was sitting, nearly collapsed in the chair next to her. All the chamomile tea in the world could not calm her down at that moment.

* * *

Mrs McFarland did a check-up on Isla to ascertain whether her head had completely healed. Thankfully, everything seemed to be in order, and so she let her go with a warning to be careful not to fall or hit her head again, because she would not always be so lucky.

Isla felt anything but lucky; it seemed that Bob Hitchens had made it a point to appear out of nowhere whenever she was on her own. She could avoid him very well in a crowd, since he could hardly expect her to walk up to him and ask him amicably about his vacations. But when she was walking the corridors alone, going to or coming out of the library or the Quidditch pitch, there was no escaping him; she quickly decided that the best she could do was ignore him. She could not pretend she had not seen or heard him forever. He would go so far as to call out her name, but she would resolutely look ahead of her, never blinking an eye as his booming voice came to her ears, first in request, then in astonishment, and finally is frustration. Painful as it was, Isla never flinched from her purpose, and managed to become immune to his constant presence. Sophia, and to some extend her parents, had done an excellent job indeed.

Seeing that a straightforward way was not working, Bob began ambushing her in all the places that she used to find solitude and had now become her havens: between the bookshelves of the Transfiguration Section in the library, or by the staircase that led to the dungeons. He could even be seen, only by her of course, lurking around the Quidditch pitch whenever she had practice. Isla took care never to walk alone or lag behind in the grounds, and to have at least three possible exits from the maze that was the Hogwarts Library.

Slughorn seemed pleased by her performance during training, and her academic career was greatly improved, because of all the extra studying Isla had been doing in ungodly hours of the night, reassuring thus Sophia that all was well. She did not complain for her constant tiredness. The alternative was torturing nightmares that ended with her screaming. She did not really have a choice.

* * *

The second Quidditch match of the season found Isla a little more rested than she had been since Christmas. She had asked the previous evening for a strong sleeping draught from Mrs McFarland, feigning insomnia due to the pressure of the NEWTs. The matron had obliged her without a moment's hesitation. She desperately needed the rest, even more so since the team they would be playing was Ravenclaw, and therefore Isla knew beyond a shadow of doubt that Bob Hitchens would be attending the game. What was more, the prospect of an angry Paul Kirkpatrick as an opponent was a fearsome thought.

She took off into the cold February morning, and felt the knot in her stomach that had been her constant companion over the last month and a half loosen, as the adrenaline of the game took over all other sensations of her body. She needed to find the Snitch as quickly as possible, so as to prevent the Ravenclaw Chasers, who were too good for Miss Lestrange, from scoring too many goals. Half an hour into the game, she saw the little golden ball flying past Kirkpatrick's head, and accelerating behind him. He was too preoccupied with studying Isla, however, and did not see the Snitch. Isla forced her broom to its limits, and passed swooshing by the Ravenclaw Seeker, whose attention was still focused on her face. Was anger what she discerned as their gazes met for a moment? By the time he realized that Miss Black had actually seen the Snitch, Isla had landed on the Quidditch pitch brandishing the fluttering little ball in her hand as the Slytherins gave a cry of delight.

* * *

Isla's day to day life continued in very much the same way after the Quidditch match; sleepless nights filled with revision, exhausted days in which she nearly slept in class, increasingly demanding Quidditch practice, and worried looks from Sophia and Duilius. They accepted her excuse of nervousness for the exams each time they asked if there was something the matter with her. Ursula was having hysteric episodes every other day because of the ridiculous amount of classes that she had, and therefore was a little preoccupied to notice that anything was amiss with Isla.

No matter how good and hard-working a student Sophia was, the almost tangible approach of the exams was taking its toll on her as well. In her sleepless nights, Isla could hear Sophia sobbing in her bed. She would get up, go to her friend's bed, and stroke her hair whilst reassuring her in a soft voice, until Sophia drifted into sleep once more. Sophia could not find words to express her gratitude to Isla, and so contended herself with squeezing her hand under the table at breakfast in the Great Hall every morning. Despite her being a little resentful to her for her advise, Isla felt that Sophia owed her no gratitude, not after all she had done for her for nearly seven years. Besides, she knew that she was right, no matter how much pain that caused her.

Bob had not given up on trying to make Isla talk to him, but she still managed to avoid him. For how long they could both play this game of cat-and-mouse, she could not tell. One of them would break sooner or later, she knew that. She felt sick at the very thought of it.

February turned into March, and still Isla never allowed herself to sleep properly. Sleep had become unbearable to her, and she dreaded the nightmares that would inevitably return to her if she slept more than two or three hours every night. This had left its mark on her countenance; her pale skin had turned yellow, her black eyes were hollow and lifeless, and her eyelids had become purple. She could hardly recognize herself anymore. She was glad, however, that Phineas was not there to see the ghost that she had become; she would not have been able to bear his disapproval and irony.

In her insomniac nights, Isla too often questioned her own decision regarding Bob. It was costing too much to her to estrange herself from him, when she could have had his friendship. She daren't believe that he might return her feelings for him; she could never deserve the love of such a good and kind man. But Sophia's words ran through her head, ending the agonizing doubts that tormented her.

She realized in her perusals that, even if Bob loved her back, even if she had the courage to disobey her family and provoke their wrath, she could never turn her back on her once loving family. True, they cared for her no longer, but they were all that was left of Sirius, and she could not give up on him so lightly. Besides, she still hoped. Hoped for a miracle that would bring back her family before the dreadful accident near the stream in Aunt Octavia's house. She was the greatest naive simpleton in the world, and she knew it. But hope can never die; for, without hope, there is no life. Isla, therefore, went on hoping, in order to go on living.

* * *

Her perseverance, however, was not truly tested until the middle of March. The Quidditch final was scheduled for the next week, thus prompting Slughorn to book the pitch for practice every other evening. The examinations were nearly upon them, and all the professors were arranging revision tests for their seventh year students. In addition to her own studying, Sophia demanded her attention and energy, for she needed all the encouragement that Isla could give her.

If Isla had felt tired before, it was nothing compared to the complete exhaustion she felt on that sunny Saturday morning as she walked into the library. Every atom of her body was tense because of the extreme lack of sleep. Her movements were nervous and her eyes were constantly blinking in an attempt to fight off the faintness she felt coming upon her. Even though she had already finished revising every single subject she would be examined in, she stubbornly insisted on going over the Runes vocabulary one more time before she sat the test on Monday.

Tired as she was, Isla took little care to prepare herself should Bob suddenly appear before her, as he did too often in the past months. She wandered absentmindedly through the labyrinth of bookshelves, searching for a Runes dictionary that she might not have read before for her revision. Her eye caught a shadow moving two rows down from were she was standing, and she turned abruptly to face it, as a thrill rushed through her already tense body, and all drowsiness disappeared in an instant. She saw Bob Hitchens making his way towards her. He seemed calm and determined to talk to her at last.

"Miss Black", he said and bowed.

Isla turned, and feeling her defenses too weak, she began moving down the isle.

"Please, Miss Black! I need to speak to you!", she heard Bob calling after her, as he chased her.

She could not risk breaking down. Not now.

"Why will you not speak to me?", he shouted in fury. "Please, Miss Black, I beg you, please listen to me."

Isla continued running, hoping against hope to find an exit from the maze she had unwittingly trapped herself in.

"Miss Black, please", said Bob, his voice pleading once more. "Have I offended you? Did the book I sent you offend you? Did I do, or say something, I shouldn't have?"

Despair was in every word he uttered, and still Isla would not reply or look at him. She continued running through the deserted isles of the library. She saw light in the end of the isle she was running down; she was nearing the front desk. But Bob was close on her heels.

"Miss Black, please, listen to me, please..."

She stormed through the bookshelves and in front of the librarian's desk, were nearly fifty students were studying, talking in muffled voices, or looking abstractly out of the window. Isla stopped to catch her breath, feeling finally safe.

"_Miss Black, why will you not speak to me?!_", shouted Bob Hitchens, as he finally caught up with her and grabbed her arm, swinging her round to face him.

She could have hexed him, she could have cursed him, she could have enchanted books to fly from their shelves and attack him, she could have freed herself from him. But she did not. She could never use magic on him, not even now. Instead, she looked at him. Their faces were mere inches apart. Fury, mingled with sadness and maddening entreaty were into the blue eyes that Isla had avoided like hell over the past two months, and that had haunted her few sleeping hours. Silent tears were rolling down his pale cheek. Isla's heart was about to shatter, but she managed to arrange her features into the most disdainful, haughty and disgusted look she could muster.

Every single pair of eyes in the library was watching in silent fascination the bizarre scene unfolding in front of them.

"Release my arm this instant, sir", she said in her deadliest whisper.

Bob seemed unable to register the meaning of her words. He continued staring into her eyes, ready to explode with anguish at any moment. The eery silence around him made him throw a look on his left, and a look on his right, before slowly stepping back, and finally releasing Isla's arm from his firm grasp. He was out of sight in an instant. All who were present were now looking intently at her. She held her head high, and walked out of the library. Once she was in the corridor, tears began running down her cheeks. Disregarding everything and everyone around her, she ran to the dungeons, shedding tears and sobbing loudly. She stormed through the Slytherin Common Room, oblivious to all the shocked exclamations that her disheveled appearance caused. She shut the door of her dormitory with force, as her sobs became louder, the tears flowed in a river on her cheeks, and the shaking that she had tried to prevent from the moment Bob had taken hold of her arm took over her and became incontrollable.

Sophia entered the room, sick with worry on how she would find her friend. She was not prepared for what she saw; Isla was lying on the floor, shaking violently, gasping for air between the sobs that convulsed her chest, and the endless tears that sprang from her tired eyes.

"Duilius!", screamed Sophia, not bothering with politeness. "Duilius, fetch Mrs McFarland! _Quickly!_"


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Hogsmeade Weekend

"But what happened? The whole of the school is talking of nothing else! I heard that he was chasing her in the library. That he actually grabbed her arm, in front of everyone! What in Merlin's name was he thinking of?"

"I do not know. I cannot tell what made him act as he did. I do not think she provoked him. I know that she has not spoken to him since before Christmas. I told her to simply end their relationship, whatever it was. I never really understood, but I think they were very good friends. But she took my advise. I thought it was better if..."

Silence fell between Sophia and Duilius; Isla could not move a muscle, nor could she decide where she was, but she would know their voices anywhere.

"It might not be his fault. I do not think she has had a proper night's sleep since we came back from the Christmas holidays. You know how worried she has been about the NEWTs."

Sophia paused.

"I do hope she will get better soon", she added anxiously.

Isla drifted once more into nothingness.

* * *

After what seemed a moment to her, or maybe an eternity, she surfaced again. She could only hear soft whispers about her.

"Do not worry, Mr Black, she will be fine. She has exhausted herself, poor child. She has been working very hard lately, I am told. A couple more days of sleep, and I shall cease administering sleeping potions. I cannot risk waking her up before her body is ready; she might suffer another nervous breakdown, and that could be very damaging to her nerves."

"But she will be healed? She will be as she was before?"

There was something in her father's voice that Isla had never heard there since before the death of Sirius. It had been so long, she could not immediately recognize it; it sounded very much like anxiousness. Her father was anxious that she should get well. That was all she needed to know for the present. She almost immediately lost all sense again, and she could not tell which way was up or down, whether the laughter that she heard, beginning as a gargling noise that could have belonged to a child, and changed into a booming and loud sound that was painfully familiar, was coming from the room that surrounded her, or from the darkest corners of her mind.

* * *

The first thing she felt was soft fabric on her fingertips. Slowly, she realized that she had the same sensation on her feet, on her back, and on her arms. She was covered with the same material, and the thought that her head was suspended higher than the rest of her body presented itself, as her brain finally began to wake up and collect information.

_Not again_, she thought with an internal groan, as she realized that, for the second time that school year, she was waking in the Hospital Wing from a lengthy comatose state. She relished each moment that passed and proved to her that yet another part of her rigid body was working. Inexplicably, she felt very much alive as her faculties slowly began operating once more. The soft mattress on her back, the feather pillow beneath her head, had never felt more welcoming and real to Isla, as her tiredness dissolved and she found her lost strength. She opened her eyes to the soft light that the torches in the Hospital Wing emitted. She met the matron's scrutinizing gaze.

"How are you feeling?"

"Rested. Strong. Alive."

"Alive? Well, of course you are alive! Your life was never in danger. Do not make yourself a martyr."

Mrs McFarland's tone made it clear to her that she was being ridiculous. Isla did not mind. The matron continued pointing her wand at her, making all the necessary tests and enchantments to ascertain that all was well.

"Humph, you have once again been _very _lucky, Miss Black, and your head has suffered no damage. But should I hear that you have not been sleeping, you will be moving quarters with me, young lady! I shall prescribe you a Dreamless Sleep draught, for good measure."

Dreamless Sleep. Isla could not have wished for anything more. Perhaps this whole affair had been for the best after all.

"Drink this", said Mrs McFarland, handing her a goblet full of dark purple potion. "You need to keep good hours till your examinations, or you will be done for by then, and faint in the middle of the Great Hall!"

Isla smiled at the cup, and drank gladly. Sleep and peace at last! Her last thought before the potion took effect was to wonder whether her mother and father would visit her again. She never ceased to surprise herself these days. Perhaps the age of miracles had not passed yet.

* * *

She did not have to wait long for her wish to be granted, for, upon waking, she found her parents sitting by her bed. Her mother immediately rose, and came by her side, inquiring anxiously about how she was feeling, and arranging the pillows for her to sit comfortably. After this amiable and so unusual attention, she returned to her chair, and simply stared at her hands that rested in her lap for the rest of her stay. Next to her, her father pierced her with his cold, black eyes. Only, as she gazed back, she found that there was something different about his look; it was not as cold as usual. There was something there that Isla dimly remembered from years gone by; it was concern, slowly converting to relief as he saw that his daughter was well.

"How are you feeling?", he asked quietly.

"Perfectly fine. In fact, I have not felt this well for a long time."

"I am glad", he said, and he meant it.

An awkward silence prevailed between them, broken by Phineas' entrance.

"Ah, sister, I see that you are on the mend", he said curtly, dragging a chair near her bed.

Isla shuddered at the sound of the chair against the stone floor; typical Phineas, annoying her even in her sickbed.

"Did Professor Fortescue expel the mudblood yet?", asked Phineas, mostly addressing his parents.

Isla startled at what Phineas had said. Could Bob Hitchens be expelled for the scene in the library? She did not doubt that he would receive detention, as well as lose points from Ravenclaw, and that only if she made a fuss over it. But her parents had enough influence in the school to bring about his expulsion. Fear gripped her, but it did not reach her features. She remained serene; if she gave into her emotions now, she would not be able to hinder her family from acting thus.

"Oh, Phineas, do not be so dramatic."

"Oh, I am not dramatic, dear sister. He _touched_ and shouted at a Black. In front of at least fifty students, no less! The nerve of him!", said her brother. "In Merlin's name, he brought on the nervous breakdown. I do not think father will let this pass without punishment."

Cygnus Black's stony expression had found its way to his handsome face once more, and his eyes were as cold as ice. Isla trembled in apprehension.

"Certainly not. I have an appointment with the Headmaster later in the morning to discuss the matter", he said in an unnerving whisper.

Isla's mind was racing; she needed to find a way out of this predicament, sparing Bob the pain and humiliation that the expulsion and snapping of his wand were sure to cause.

"Really, Phineas! The breakdown had nothing to do with that. I was already feeling shaky. Besides, if I had been in the mood for bothering with mudblood scum, I would have jinxed him", she said coldly. "He is, however, beneath my notice. Father, I entreat you, do nothing. He most definitely is _not_ worth our concern."

She spoke with all the contempt she could muster. Mr Black and Phineas pierced her with identical intense gazes, but her father's soon softened.

"Be that as it may", he said, as he rose to leave, "he shall at least receive detention. For a long time. Farewell."

As their parents departed, Phineas not once wavered his eyes from examining Isla's face.

"I was rather astonished", he said slowly as soon as they were alone, "that you did not attack him, considering your-ah-past treatment of that particular mudblood."

"I have had enough detention because of that filthy mudblood to last me a lifetime. It was much better to appear generous, instead of vindictive, don't you think, brother?"

She stared boldly at him straight in the eye, and for a moment they seemed engaged in a battle of looks. After a minute or two, Phineas lowered his gaze, bowed his head slightly, and left her on her own with only her troubled thoughts for company.

She was relieved that she had managed to save Bob from expulsion. But she was sure that there would be no more free afternoons or Hogsmeade weekends for him. She felt guilty, knowing that Bob would suffer for her. After all, all this could have been prevented had she thought of a more efficient plan to deal with her affection for him than simply doing blindly as she was told by Sophia.

No matter how bad she felt for Bob, Isla was very moved by her parents; though neither of them had said as much, she could see that they were anxious for her health, and were pleased to see her recover.

Yet she could not say that all the pain and suffering that had brought on the breakdown and her family's attention had been worth it. A year ago she would have asked for nothing more than her mother to behave as she had today, or the soft look in her father's relentless and cold eyes. But not any more; the cost had been too great. Bob's tear-stricken eyes looking in despair and anger at her came to haunt her at that moment. How she missed him! Isla shook herself instantly; such thoughts were to no avail, for they could never share their conversations, their confidence, their looks and feelings again. Their roads had separated for good.

* * *

After four more days of rest in the Hospital Wing, after Mrs McFarland had equipped her with enough sleeping draughts to get her through the week, and after her most solemn promise not to stress herself too much and visit the matron every week for a check-up, Isla was at last allowed to rejoin her dormitory and studying sessions. Thanks to the Dreamless Sleep draught that she was forced to take every night, she managed to sleep through the night, and be rested every day. Isla felt wonderful, being well-rested for a change, and all the ridiculous studying she had done before paid off in the revision tests that their teachers gave them for practice before the final examinations. Her looks improved too; her skin lost the yellowness that it had acquired, her cheeks were once more flushed with the color of health, and her eyes ceased to be lifeless.

The matron, naturally, had forbidden Isla to play on the last match of the year, fearing that the excitement would be too much for her nerves. Slughorn had therefore found a replacement, a forth year by the name of John Bulstrode, who by no means equalled Isla's ability, but was at least a decent flyer. In any case, even if Slytherin lost with fifty points, they would still win the Quidditch Cup.

On the day of the final, Isla was the only student to remain in the Common Room; it was a beautiful spring day at the end of March, and the whole school had gone to the game, but Mrs McFarland had insisted that it was too risky for her to even attend the match. Isla did not mind the absolute silence that prevailed in the dungeons. She was studying for the upcoming Charms revision test, and had lost all track of time when Sophia burst into the Common Room, breathless from running.

"We won!", she said, and beamed. "Isla, we won the Quidditch Cup!"

Before she knew it, Isla was standing, the book that she previously held unceremoniously thrown aside, and tightly hugging Sophia and laughing, as the Common Room slowly filled with thrilled Slytherins.

* * *

Isla had not been mistaken in her assumptions regarding Bob's punishment; as she entered the Great Hall a day before the final Hogsmeade visit of the year, she overheard a couple of Ravenclaw girls saying-

"Well, Hitchens won't be going anywhere. I heard him saying to Kirkpatrick that he was banned from going to Hogsmeade. You know he already spends every evening in Professor Nott's office, serving detention."

"Well, knowing the Blacks, I am surprised he is still here, actually! Wasn't she the one that had called him you-know-what after the Quidditch final last year?"

"Yes. But the question is, what happened between them? His behavior that day was very odd, you know. From what Mary told me, he..."

The girl trailed off as she realized that Isla was standing right behind her, looking very stern. Frightened, the two girls hurried to the Ravenclaw table, and threw scared glances at Isla as she sat next to Duilius.

"Is anything the matter, cousin?", he asked as he filled her goblet with pumpkin juice.

"Not at all", she replied feigning a smile. "I am eagerly anticipating my brother's visit tomorrow", she finished, as she started eating from her plate, more out of obligation to her health; she had no appetite these days.

* * *

As she dressed the next morning for her outing to Hogsmeade, Isla started preparing herself for Andronicus Gamp's advances. They were not welcome, but they would have to seem as such, if she wished to remain in her family's grace. So, when she, Sophia, Ursula and Duilius(whom Phineas had invited merely because Mr Black had urged him to at least appear friendly towards his cousin), met with Phineas, Gamp and Burke, Isla was all smiles and politeness. Her brother, after making sure that Isla showed all the proper pleasure at being courted by his friend, offered his arm at Ursula, and began pacing in front of the rest of the group. At Isla's request, Sophia, and consequently Duilius, had agreed to remain near her and not leave her alone for more than a few moments with Mr Gamp. Sophia had frowned at her request, but she had accepted, not wanting to pressure her friend too much and risk another breakdown.

The day passed, and nothing new or interesting was said. As the group slowly made its way towards the gates of the grounds in the afternoon, Isla felt the muscles around her mouth ache with all the effort of smiling ceaselessly. Ursula, on the other hand, seemed to grow happier with each passing moment. It was a scheming happiness though, one that could never evoke Isla's approval; she was happy because Phineas had been evidently taking pains to make himself agreeable to her. All her dreams were coming true.

Next to her, Gamp carried on chatting about insignificant and downright boring things to her, as she continued to feign surprise when there was a twist in his tale, tut disapprovingly at someone else's folly, and giggle at every joke he cracked. The gates seemed miles away to Isla, and yet they were a few yards ahead of them. Once they reached them, the people who would be returning to the castle said their goodbyes to those who would be apparating home. In a complete daze of astonishment, Isla saw Andronicus Gamp take her hand, and bring it up to his lips for a kiss, in what he assumed was gallantry. Had she not been so taken aback by this sudden intimacy, in front of her own brother no less, she would have been terribly tempted to hex him. Phineas, however, gave her a lop-sided grin of approval. She realized that jinxing her chosen bridegroom, for at that moment both Gamp's intentions and her family's were crystal clear to her, would not be a wise thing to do. Instead, she favored him with yet another smile; the most difficult of all that she had been forced to place on her face that day.

Phineas nodded his approval, when his attention was caught by something behind Isla.

"Oh, look, it's the mudblood, Hitchens", he said, disdain underlining every single syllable he uttered. "Why is he looking at you, sister?", he asked Isla, with a raised eyebrow.

At her brother's words, she turned her head sharply, and looked past the gates to meet Bob Hitchens' intense gaze. He had obviously come to the gates to meet his friend Kirkpatrick, and there he was, standing completely motionless, staring at her from afar. Isla could not help but be captivated for an instant by his eyes; his expression was unreadable. She managed, however, to look back at Phineas, shrugging in seemingly perfect indifference. Everyone was paying close attention to her words.

"How should I know? I cannot tell how the funny little brains of muggle scum work. He should know better than to provoke me", she said in such a cold manner, that she surprised even herself.

Sophia and Duilius exchanged looks that plainly spoke their wonder at her speech, but the rest of the party seemed convinced. Phineas gave her a lingering and penetrating glance, before nodding. Isla then turned her attention once more to Andronicus Gamp, her self-appointed beau, and even managed to lavish another smile at him before they finally departed.

As soon as they had passed the gates and were in the safety of the Hogwarts grounds, Isla quickly searched for Bob; she was not surprised to find that he was gone. Her face fell and she could not even bring herself to smile at a joke Duilius made to lighten her obviously downcast mood. Indeed, nothing seemed to make her feel any better. There was no escaping the feeling of disappointment and disgust for herself and her behavior that was building inside her chest. The fact that this was the only way to save her skin from the pack of blood-thirsty wolves that were the pure-blood witches and wizards was hardly consolatory. Sophia gently pressed her hand and smiled in concern at her in an attempt to congratulate her at her behavior, but she only made matters worse for her friend. Isla was so miserable that, that night, she forgot to take her sleeping potion.

She had not long been asleep, before Sirius' beloved face came to visit her. He plunged into the river, and consequently to his death, as the scene changed; she was on board the Hogwarts Express. She looked at the castle that was fading to the distance, and Bob, standing on the platform of the Hogsmeade Station, not acknowledging her screams. When he turned to her at last, the train was speeding up, but Isla managed to get a glimpse of his face; his cheeks were blotchy, and his teary eyes were looking at her in despair and anger.

Isla startled awake; tears were running down her face uncontrollably. She spent the rest of the night staring at the dying embers in the Common Room fireplace; she dared not risk falling asleep again. It was too painful.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Last Day

After two more months of intense studying and constant worrying, the NEWTs finally began. For Isla, they passed in a haze, as if they were nothing more than a dream at crack of dawn. _Too many dreams_, she thought as she tiredly rose from her chair and submitted the final paper to the examiners. She immediately made her way towards the lake. Nothing could keep her inside. She did not even wait for Sophia and Duilius to finish. She was in desperate need of quiet, solitude and sunshine.

It was over. The long-dreaded NEWTs were finally and irrevocably over. Isla was not certain whether she was glad of it, or not. There would be no more studying to fill her days and occupy her mind. There would be no more classes to justify her staying at Hogwarts. There would be no more anxiousness to cover her sadness. She was naked for all the world to see.

Had anyone asked her a year ago how she would feel upon graduating, she would have replied that she would be relieved that the examinations were over, but would be very sad to have to leave Hogwarts. _How ironic_, she thought, _that I am glad school is over, but I will miss the studying. _Her life nowadays was too full or irony, even for her sarcastic tastes. All that was left for Isla to hope now was that she had achieved top marks in Charms and Transfiguration so she could be part of Professor Williams' illustrious project.

She had not spoken to her parents of it yet, but thankfully Headmaster Fortescue had informed her father, stressing the significance of the research for the future of Transfiguration, and the fame that it would bring to all those who contributed to its successful outcome. Permission was therefore obtained without the slightest effort from her part. She was glad of it, for, though lying to her family with regards her actions and motives was by now second nature to her, she did not have the strength after the exams to argue her case.

No. All she could do at present, was lie in the grass and enjoy the summer warmth and the soothing sound of the lake slowly washing up the pebbled shore.

* * *

Horrible nights awaited Isla after the end of the exams, for Mrs McFarland saw no reason to continue prescribing to her Dreamless Sleep. At first, she would wake up twisting the sheets and blankets around her, perspiration running down her forehead, trying hard not to be heard crying. But, as June progressed towards the end of her school career, so did her handling of her nightmares; she would wake up in silent tears, take a few deep breaths to calm herself, and she would sleep the rest of the night through.

The days were not easier. Free at last as they were, and masters of their own fates, Sophia and Duilius showed their affection for each other without hesitation. They would talk and laugh, take long walks on their own, or simply stare into each other's eyes, completely mindless of the world around them. Ursula had had too much of this situation, and was spending her days mostly in the company of Julia Lestrange. Isla herself found her patience tried by her two best friends, and every afternoon she would take her broom and go flying, enjoying for what she knew to be the final time the untamed beauty of the Scottish Highlands. There was no getting away from her own thoughts and troubles, since no living creature in the castle was willing to distract her, and flying at least kept her mind a little, even if not wholly, busy.

* * *

The middle of June came, and with it the last day that Isla would spend in her beloved castle. She took time that day to wander aimlessly through the corridors, stroll the edge of the Forbidden Forest, visit one last time the Quidditch Pitch and her darling beech tree near the lake. She took this melancholy tour on her own, lost in the memories of all the sad, happy, triumphant and humiliating moments. Bob Hitchens was a prominent figure in her recollections. She was very much aware that, after tomorrow, she would not see him again. Even if she did, an insurmountable gap would exist between them, and conversation would be out of the question. It was the end, and she was helpless in facing its necessity.

That evening she took care to pull her hair into a simple bun; she felt that the occasion deserved her comely appearance. Along with Sophia, Ursula and Duilius, Isla made her way to the Great Hall for the End of Term feast, her final meal at the castle. It was over far too quickly, but she could not find enough feeling or energy in her body to protest. That night, her slumber was deep, and even though Sirius and Bob visited her in her dreams, she could not wake up and lament their loss.

* * *

The morning came, the trunks were moved by the house elves to the train, and Isla made her way towards the Hogsmeade Station on foot. It was too glorious a day for one to spend even a moment with one's head covered. Knowing that the eternal drizzle of London awaited her at the end of her journey, she decided to make the most of these last moments. As she walked up the steps that led from the dungeons to the Entrance Hall, and then down the path that led to the gates, and beyond to Hogsmeade and the train station, Isla's eyes thirstily drank every detail for her to cherish forever in her heart. She loved Hogwarts; she loved the way one could feel the seasons changing around oneself. The way Isla herself had changed, with only Bob as a witness. She reprimanded herself for being so ridiculously sentimental, but it could not be helped; Hogwarts had been a truer home to her than Number 12, Grimauld Place could ever be.

She arrived at the station at approximately the same time that the carriages halted in front of its entrance. Isla was not at all sorry to part from the thestrals that pulled the carriages, another reminder of that terrible day by the stream near Aunt Octavia's house. As soon as they dismounted, she was joined by her friends, and was herded onto the train. She did not have a chance to look back one more time at the castle, or to try and get a glimpse of Bob in the sea of students that surrounded the train. Instead, Isla was pushed into an empty compartment by Sophia, who did not want to leave her too long on her own in the middle of the crowd, lest she might do something foolish. Soon, the steam engine roared to life, and the train started to move slowly out of the station, leaving Hogwarts behind.

This was much worse than Isla's nightmares. She did not even get a last look at Bob. There would be no goodbyes, she knew that. But she would have liked to see him before giving up herself to duty. Her chance had now passed. There was no going back. He was lost to her. His desperate and angry eyes, red from the tears he had shed, fled through her mind, as all she could hear was the noise of the engine.

* * *

Within a month from her arrival from Hogwarts, Isla's nightmares had subsided, and she could sleep through most nights undisturbed. She was not happy; she tried to remain passive, but there was little more she could do.

Andronicus Gamp had made it a point to visit Number 12 once a week. Isla had a vague suspicion that her father was encouraging him to come. Once a week, therefore, she wore the most diplomatic smile she could muster, as her ears were bombarded with information about Mr Gamp's life that she had no interest in. Isla surprised even herself with her perseverance. Mr Black was led to believe, by her apparent fascination by Mr Gamp's conversation, that she reciprocated his feelings, or at least his interest in the suitability of the match.

Her days were idly spent, pacing her room, or helping Elladora with her homework. She was surprised by how lazy her sister had become after her OWLs. All capability of concentration and learning seemed to have evaporated from her. At least, Isla had something to occupy a few hours of the day, for she feared that otherwise she would go mad.

The much-anticipated day of the arrival of the results dawned, and the rays of light that reached her window found her walking nervously the length of her room. She knew that no one else in the house was up yet, so she tried to make her pacing light and silent. A century seemed to pass before a quiet _tap_ was heard at the window. Isla immediately rushed to it, and let the owl that was there in. With shaking hands, she tore the seal of the Ministry of Magic on the scroll of parchment that she had taken from the owl, and eagerly read her results.

She had passed everything; she had As in Runes and Defense Against the Dark Arts, an E in Herbology, and, to her wild delight, Os in Charms and Transfiguration. A genuine smile, that had not adorned her lips for months and months, appeared on her face. She would be making Professor Williams' team after all. She was more glad than she could find words to express.

Isla patiently waited until her father was up and into the library. She timidly approached the door, and softly knocked.

"Enter", she heard his cold voice reply from behind the door.

She lost no time; she entered, and gave him the letter containing her results.

"Well done, Isla", said her father, somewhat impressed. "To be sure, you have not reached your brother's marks, but you have done well indeed. I assume you meet the requirements in order to join the mudblood's team."

Isla flinched at the word, but managed to remain calm.

"Yes, father."

"Very well. Inform him so that you can begin. Do not let a man such as him overshadow you, though. You must strive to make the Black name prominent in this effort."

"Of course, father. I shall work hard and bring honor to the family."

She rose to depart, when her father halted her.

"One more thing, Isla. I did not press the subject when it first came up because of your delicate health at the time." He paused, and pierced her with his dark, intense eyes. "How did that mudblood, Hitchens, came to behave so that day in the Library?"

Isla froze, and felt all the blood desert her face, betraying thus her emotion and uneasiness. Her gaze never wavered, however, from that of her father's, as she sat back down, buying time to think.

"Tell me the truth, daughter, for I cannot believe that even scum like him do not act without a reason or without provocation."

"I suspect that he wished to avenge himself on me", she said finally. "You must recall that, last year, I insulted him-called him a mudblood-in front of the whole school. I presume he thought that, creating such a scene in front of so many people, would cause stories to circulate of an imaginary association between us, as it undoubtedly did. And what better way to ruin a young lady than ruining her reputation?", she paused to examine the effect that her speech was having thus far to her father. "This is what I believe lies behind his arrogant behavior. That is, if he has enough brain to come up with such an effective plan."

Isla wildly hoped that the insult would settle Mr Black's doubts. He continued to stare deeply into her eyes, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that he was reading her mind. She was no master at Occlumency, but she immediately pushed all thoughts of Bob out of her mind, and focused on the few times she had talked scornfully of him.

His long scrutiny seemed to convince him that she was telling the truth; Isla's heart was racing in her chest under the pressure of his gaze.

"Then why did you not raise your wand to defend yourself? Could not your passive reaction be interpreted as guilt?"

"I believed that my character and impeccable behavior proclaimed my innocence more loudly and clearly than a curse. I am still of the same opinion."

As she finished, she held her breath in anticipation of what would follow. Very slowly, her father nodded his belief in her words. Isla was very glad she was sitting, for she was sure that, were she standing, her knees would buckle and betray her.

"Well, since Mr Gamp has not been put off by the incident, no harm is done."

"As you say, father, Mr Gamp is as gallant to me as ever. All's well that ends well."

"Yes. But, I warn you, Isla: such episodes, be they your fault or not, can only taint the name of Black."

Once more, his black eyes gazed intently at her, as he studied her for any inappropriate reaction. Isla's face remained stony, as it had for the whole of the interview; she was her father's daughter after all.

Thankfully, it was not long before she was dismissed. She hurried to her room, and paced the length of it in an attempt to calm herself from her father's attack. It had not been unexpected, so it did not find Isla unprepared for it. Still, it had been very trying; she had never expected Legilimency. She was immensely relieved that she had managed to get out of that tight spot. Deciding that the best way to tranquilize her nerves would be to focus her attention on something else, she spent the next couple of hours arranging the details of her position in the research program with Professor Williams through mail.

Due to some delay from the Ministry of Magic, the project had not yet began. It would be another week before the team's inaugural meeting. Isla was very excited to feel part of something, and, young as she still was, in spite of her experience thus far, could not help but hope that she would be esteemed and respected by her fellow researchers.

* * *

Later that day, Isla could be found drinking a glass of chilled pumpkin juice in the Leaky Cauldron. She was twitching with anticipation, as she glanced at her watch for what must have been the millionth time. Sophia, who had required to see her, was late. The note that she had sent to Isla had been urgent, and spoke of a very important thing that she had to tell her.

Another quarter of an hour passed, in which Isla fidgeted nervously in her seat, drank another glass of pumpkin juice, and harassed her watch by opening it too many times to check the time, before Sophia finally arrived, accompanied by Duilius.

"Thank Merlin! At last!", she sighed as she rose to greet her friends.

As she pulled back from the tight embrace that Sophia had captured her in, she noticed the broad smile on her lips, and the twinkle of happiness in her green eyes. Glancing at Duilius, she saw the same joy in every feature of his face.

"Well, my grades were beyond anything that I expected", said Duilius, after they had all informed the others of their results. "I got a position at the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters", he finished, beaming.

"And we wanted you to be the first to know our _other_ news", continued Sophia, "since we very much hope that you will be my bridesmaid."

Isla looked at Sophia, and then at Duilius, who was beaming even brighter than before, if such a thing was possible. Finally, she processed what she had just heard, and with all her energy congratulated her friends on their engagement.

"Not that I am surprised", she continued, as she looked at Sophia with a raised eyebrow. "Both of you were-how shall I put it?-unable to take your eyes off each other?"

Isla batted her eyes mischievously at them, as Sophia scoffed and Duilius laughed heartily at her teasing.

"Of course, we shan't marry immediately; we will have to wait for a few months. I want us to have our own home, and we cannot afford it just yet", said Duilius. "There will be some money from my parents, of course."

"And my dowry", added Sophia. "It is small, but it will add to our funds."

"Yes, but that we will keep intact for the children", said Duilius, looking at Sophia adoringly.

For a few moments, the couple sat gazing at each other; Isla could not suppress a whisper of "Merlin help me", which thankfully reminded them that they had company.

Isla was happy, truly happy, for them; it was obvious that they loved each other tremendously, and she had no doubt that theirs would be a blissful union. Envy and reproach reared their ugly heads in Isla's chest, in spite of her efforts. How she wished that such joyful days were ahead of her with her heart's desire! She could not help but blame Sophia for her current sorry state. She blamed herself much more than her friend, but one is always consoled by the fact that one is not alone the author of one's misery. Sophia, trying to protect her station and standing in society, had made her see reason. But she had got the man she loved. She had nothing to lose by acting as she did. Isla, no matter how she acted, had a great deal to lose. And yet... _Do not even think about it_, she scolded herself that night, as she rolled over in bed, trying to fall asleep. It was not long before her sleep was broken by the same nightmare that tormented her since Christmas. Isla whole-heartedly wished that she had not failed Potions two years ago.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Elladora's Fury

However envious Isla had felt about Duilius and Sophia's engagement, seeing her friends so happy in their love, she could never be resentful towards them. Even that twinge of jealously that she experienced upon hearing the news had disappeared by the end of the week; her attention was fully commanded by the work that she would be starting.

Professor Williams had taken great pains with the premises; there was a spacious meeting room, where the team would hold their conferences, and all members had a room of their own, in order to focus to their assigned tasks and perform their individual experiments and tests. Her colleagues proved intelligent witches and wizards, of all ages and social backgrounds; there was Mr Antony Blishwick, who was a distant cousin of her father's, Mrs Daphne Reynolds, who was married to a muggle, Mr Thomas Percy, whom Isla remembered as the top student at Hogwarts a couple of years ago, and Miss Beatrice Macmillan, a young woman five or six years older than herself. Isla could not help but flinch at Miss Macmillan's name, as her mind wandered in spite of herself to a starlit evening a year since at the edge of the Forbidden Forest with Bob, as they amicably discussed Shakespeare. At that moment, she felt as if a decade had elapsed from that wondrous night. She brought herself out of her reverie, and back to the present, forcibly; such thoughts would not do.

Mr Blishwick had been very cordial once he realized their relation, and mischievously asked her in a low voice-

"Well, well! Imagine seeing a descendant of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black on Professor Williams' team! How did you manage to persuade your father, eh? Oh, you have a mind of your own, eh? I always like an independent spirit", he finished, barking a laugh and clapping his large hand on her shoulder.

Had she been a true Black, she would have answered coldly and would have been offended by the man's behavior. Instead, she instantly felt relaxed in his company, and was friendly towards him.

"I might ask the same of you, sir. I am certain that your family cannot approve your working here", she replied in a teasing tone.

"Ha!", he barked again. "I say, you are an intelligent young lady! To be sure, my father would not be thrilled, but he is bed-ridden, ancient as Merlin as he is, so I make my own decisions." He winked at her.

The research was every inch as demanding as Isla had supposed it to be. She did manage, however, to become better acquainted with the rest of the team. Mrs Reynolds was very strict and never allowed herself to waste any time chatting or bantering, as the rest of the team, including Professor Williams, often did. Mr Percy always presented an alternative way to approach a problem that they encountered, and his imaginative suggestions were usually successful. If truth be told, however, he could become tiring with his constant talk of his fiancee, and not even the brightest idea could save him then from Professor Williams' scolding. Mr Blishwick was incredibly skilled with charms, and so was of great importance to the research. He was also invariably late in arriving each morning, and could be heard a good half-hour after the fixed time of arrival barking his apologies in the hall. Miss Macmillan was a little prone to accidents, and more than once had Isla been called to avert complete havoc from one of her wayward spells. She was dedicated, however, and, after a month or two, her spellwork improved significantly.

Once the new term started, Professor Williams could only join the team on weekends, as he was required at Hogwarts for the rest of the week. The cooperation of the team was such, however, that, within a fortnight of the commencement of the program, his presence was no longer necessary for the smooth continuation of the research. All the members of the team respected each other, and nothing of importance was done without the approval of everyone.

Isla was very happy with her work; she was in a friendly environment, filling her days with interesting and demanding magic, instead of wasting away in the gloomy house she had the misfortune to live in. She could not see Duilius and Sophia, however, above once a week, for Sophia had decided to help Duilius raise the money needed to purchase a home, and was now employed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry.

For all the time Isla spent in the laboratory above Flourish and Blotts(often, she would stay on till night), there was no avoiding Andronicus Gamp. He was now dropping heavy hints with regards to marriage, regularly commenting on how wise a decision Miss Prince and Mr Max had taken in becoming engaged so quickly after school.

"Of course, with a prudent choice, Miss Prince would not be forced to wait in order to have a house of her own", he said to Isla, looking at her in a very suggestive way.

Isla could do little more than nod in agreement, while inwardly wanting to shout at him for his unkind words, which were obviously aimed towards Duilius' reduced circumstances. She held her tongue, however. That was all she did these days when she was not at the laboratory.

In spite of Gamp's annoying attentions, Isla was very well satisfied with her life. What more could she hope for? Having not seen Bob for two months had not dimmed her love for him, but it had helped her to accept the fact that there was no other way. Not being constantly tormented by his presence had lifted her spirits, because she could bury her feelings in the furthermost corners of her mind, never letting them surface. She was bearing the separation very well indeed.

* * *

Time passed slowly for Isla during the next few months. Her time was mostly spent at the laboratory, but social events occupied her nights, were she was now officially escorted by Mr Andronicus Gamp, and all females she interacted with made it a point to ask her when they might congratulate her on her engagement. Isla laughed awkwardly at such suggestions; though Gamp's intentions, and her family's keenness for her to accept him were evident to her, her beau had not yet dropped on one knee, to her immense relief. It would not be too long before he did; she might as well enjoy her single status while she could.

Isla, however, was not the only one on the brink of engagement. It seemed that Phineas had set out to find a suitable ring for Ursula Flint; Ursula was, of course, aware of the fact, and could hardly contain her raptures. Coming home for the Christmas holidays, Elladora found that her parents talked of little else other than their elder children's imminent engagements. Being about to make her first official appearance in society, Elladora was annoyed that her great moment was to be outshone by her siblings.

Isla herself was taken aback by her parents' sudden attention; to be sure, it was not nearly as much as it ought, but at least they would take notice of her, and try not to be too unkind towards her. On the evening of her sister's return from Hogwarts for the holidays, Isla thought about this and could come up with only one possible explanation. She was proving to be a promising member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, since she had contributed to the victory of the Slytherin Quidditch team, and had achieved such good results. If she could just marry Andronicus Gamp in all the pomp that the pure-blood society expected from the Blacks, and made a groundbreaking discovery in Transfiguration, they would be very well pleased with her indeed.

* * *

Isla had decided to sleep till she was fully rested on Christmas Eve, for it was her first holiday in two weeks. It was not to be, however; Mrs Black sent Godam to wake her, requesting her and Elladora to go in the dressing room, where they were expected. Isla was startled by the house elf's message; she could not immediately count the years that had passed since the last time she had entered her mother's private room. It was well above a decade.

As soon as Isla and Elladora were in her room, Mrs Black presented each of her daughters with a purse full of galleons, charging them to spend their money on dress robes for that night's ball at the Malfoys. She gazed her daughters fondly for a moment.

"Make us proud, our own girls", she whispered, before her countenance turned once more to its usual, far away look.

Both sisters were extremely surprised by Mrs Black's behavior, but not quite in the same way; Isla was pleasantly surprised by her mother's marks of affection and kind words, for she had greatly felt their loss in her childhood. She cherished every outbreak, however small, of emotion that her parents had towards her. Elladora, on the other hand, had never felt so neglected in her life. Being the youngest child, she had always been the spoilt one, whose every wish was her mother's command. It therefore followed in her mind that Mrs Black would escort her in her search for the appropriate gown, and fuss over her, wanting her dearest girl's appearance to be nothing short of perfect. Now, what little attention Elladora had received from her mother, should be divided with Isla, whom the rest of the family had made a habit of ignoring.

Isla was not lost to her sister's sentiments; she was too happy of her mother's softness, however, to bother herself much with Elladora's selfishness.

* * *

Diagon Alley, as could be expected, was packed with witches and wizards doing their Christmas shopping. Isla's heart was beating wildly with apprehension; Bob might very well be part of the crowd that surrounded them. He could be the next person to overtake them, or accidentally brush against their shoulders. They made their way slowly down the main street, and each booming voice, each tall figure with curly brown hair that Isla encountered, immediately transformed into Bob in her mind. She reprimanded herself, and focused to the task at hand by pushing Elladora into a store that they would not have otherwise visited. The owner was astonished at such distinguished clients, and Elladora scoffed loudly as he presented to the young ladies his most exquisite dress robes.

Fearing lest Elladora should cause a scene with her undisguised disapproval of the merchandise, Isla swallowed her worries, and dragged her further down the road, to the shop that the Black sisters usually honored with the commission of their clothes. Elladora sighed contentedly as she started browsing the formal robes.

It was afternoon before Isla and Elladora returned at Number 12, Grimauld Place. Elladora was very pleased with her gown; it was made of light pink satin, and was trimmed with ribbons and lace on the neckline and sleeves. She paraded it around the house for everyone to see and admire, and then gave Godam specific instructions for the washing and ironing; she had to be perfect at the Christmas Eve Ball of the Malfoys.

Isla entered her room at last, and gently laid her own dress robes on the bed. She then sank on the armchair by the window, tired beyond measure. She had not had a moment of ease for the whole day; she had roamed Diagon Alley with the constant-what was it? fear, or hope? she could not tell-of seeing Bob.

True, she knew nothing of him; she knew not where he was employed, if he was still in the wizarding world, or whether he had decided to return to the muggle community. She had no way of knowing if he resided in London, or in the country. Or perhaps another town. He might be visiting his family in Manchester for the holidays. Or he might be living with them. She knew nothing.

Snow was slowly falling outside, but Isla's mind could not comprehend what her eyes inevitably saw. She was lost to sweet memories of the past, unaware of her surroundings. A few hours passed, when her mother knocked her door and urged her to get ready, for they would be leaving soon. She rose, and moved towards her dressing table, when a terrible scream was heard from her sister's room. In an instant, Isla had thrown open the door of her chamber and was on the landing of the stairs. Phineas was at the door of his room too, shaving foam dripping from his chin to his dressing gown, and a furrowed brow of annoyance covering his eyes. Elladora was not long in appearing, livid with rage. She was brandishing her new dress robes. Godam was retreating from her room, hands raised in front of his face in defense, muttering apologies.

"_You disgusting lowlife!_", Elladora screamed, in a frenzy that Isla had never thought her capable of. "_You RUINED my beautiful gown!_"

Isla's eyes quickly searched the now creased satin robes. It did not take long to locate the problem; a huge, dark stain streaked down the skirt of the gown. While cleaning it according to Elladora's instructions, Godam had spilled the bottle of a very powerful washing potion on his mistress' robes. There was no repairing the damage.

"_I shall have your head for this!"_, she screamed at the top of her lungs, as she drew her wand in order to attack the house elf.

Mr and Mrs Black finally appeared. Neither of them did anything to stop Elladora. Isla watched in amazement as they stood by, doing nothing. In an impulse, she quickly drew her own wand, and disarmed her sister. Elladora turned, rage oozing out of every pore of her skin, to face Isla.

"Elladora, that is _enough_", came Mr Black's voice, calm and cold as ever.

The youngest Black stopped in her tracks, and tried to draw a deep breath to calm herself; she was not foolish, to do anything that might displease her father. Mrs Black was at her side in an instant, reassuring her that she would find another gown. Mr Black ordered Godam to the kitchen for a private interview. Isla had not the smallest doubt that the house elf would be punished very painfully and cruelly. Instead of pursuing a lost cause, however, she offered to bring her own dress robes for Elladora to choose one to wear. She could modify the measurements in no time. Her sister accepted, but only after she had thrown her the dirtiest of looks.

Elladora proved very hard to satisfy; she disliked all of Isla's old dress robes. She demanded to wear instead the ones that Isla had bought that day for herself. She was not in the least surprised by her sister's outrageous request. Anger flooded her, but she suppressed it, and went along with Elladora's wishes. Dress robes had caused enough trouble in their household for a single day; there would be no more, if she could help it.

* * *

"Well, who would have thought it", said Phineas' sneering voice to Isla, as he entered her room, fully dressed. "Sister Elladora... I should have expected it. There was always something exceptionally cruel about her."

"Do you disapprove of her behavior, then, Phineas?", asked Isla incredulously.

She was fixing her hair as her brother entered. He imperially sat on the armchair, and watched as she prepared herself.

"I do. Anger is unbecoming, especially in a woman. What is more, a hot head never did anyone any good. Cold blood is the best recipe for success. If one is blessed with cold blood, one can conquer the world."

"I see", said Isla as she rose.

Phineas looked at her old dress robes, and raised an eyebrow in slight surprise.

"Did you not purchase new robes today?"

"I did."

"Then, why are you not wearing them instead of these old ones? You wore these last year. At Jason Malfoy's wedding."

"Because our sweet-tempered sister demanded to wear them. She disliked all of my other gowns. And, of course, she simply refused to wear one of her old ones."

"The little minx", said Phineas in utter astonishment.

Isla stared at him through the mirror of her dressing table.

"No matter what, Isla, you should not let her walk over you. You must stand up for yourself. Tonight, you deserved to be the belle of the ball." He paused, and looked intently at his sister. "You have done well, you know; I always expected you would run away as soon as school was over. Our parents are pleased with you."

Tears welled in Isla's eyes; never had she and Phineas gotten along. This was a very rare affectionate moment that they shared. At that moment, the resentment, the harsh words, the disapproval and the suspicion that divided them, were gone. They loved each other, no matter the differences in personality and opinion, and that was all that remained in the room. He moved towards her, and gently pressed her hand.

"Andronicus Gamp has good taste", said Phineas softly.

The moment was gone. Phineas' haughty expression that so resembled their father and herself returned to his handsome features. He was out of the door in a second, and, as the door shut behind him, all the things that prevented them from having an affectionate relationship were erected once more, as great mountains separating whole countries. Isla was left alone. Why did she always have to be alone?

* * *

_Author's Note: Sorry it's been taking me longer than usual to update, but I want to get a little ahead with the story before posting new chapters.  
Anyway, thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave a review! :)_


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: An Unexpected Meeting

Little pleasure came from the grand Christmas Eve Ball at the Malfoys. Elladora was in a foul mood for the whole of the evening, spoiling thus her first ball. Nothing Isla would say to her could make her relax and enjoy herself. Indeed, Isla had the suspicion that, had she been speaking to a wall, it would have heeded her more than her sister had. Quite a few young men asked to be honored with a dance by the debutante Miss Black. By the end of the song, however, they could be seen leaving her, relief plainly written across their faces, and none came to her for a second dance.

For the rest of the holidays, Elladora would glare at Godam with hatred whenever he was in the same room with her. No amount of punishment was enough to quench Elladora's anger at the poor little house elf that had ruined her lovely dress, and consequently, her inaugural ball. Isla made it a point never to leave her sister out of her sight if Godam was in the vicinity. This had the desired effect; her wand flying out of her hand was still too fresh a memory to the spoiled child of the Blacks. Never had her parents stood in her way as Isla had done that evening. All sisterly affection and understanding seemed to have snapped irrevocably between them.

The day Elladora returned to Hogwarts was a day of relief for Isla; she need not be constantly afraid for Godam's life. She could resume her work at the laboratory with her mind at ease. Isla returned gladly to the everyday routine that she had got used to before Christmas. She had missed the difficult magic, the puzzling problems that would turn up, the joy when they would be solved, and her fellow researchers. Miss Macmillan had been very warm towards her, and seemed earnestly glad to see her again. Isla returned the compliments and smile, and felt that perhaps she could be in the process of making a new friend. She was too little experienced in approaching people in order to have a truly friendly relationship. The truth of it was that the only friend she had made over the years was Bob Hitchens. Sophia and Duilius were simply there; she had the strange sensation that they had always been friends, without really trying. Ursula, of course, did not count as a friend; her motives in befriending Isla had been mercenary, as she had always been a designing creature. Her target had always been Phineas; Isla was simply a means of accessing him.

* * *

Near the end of January, Isla was forced to leave the laboratory early, as she had been commissioned by her mother to collect a few things she had purchased before the stores closed for the evening. Isla rarely wandered the streets of Diagon Alley in the afternoon, when the place was packed with people who had just finished their work, and were either returning home, or stopping by to buy a needed object. Her errand kept her busy for a good half-hour, and as she stepped out of the store, an annoying drizzle began. Isla quickly started making her way towards the Leaky Cauldron in order to return home, when her eyes met with a sight she was not at all prepared to witness: Bob Hitchens.

He was standing in the middle of a large group, talking animatedly and laughing his booming laughter loudly, completely mindless of the rain that had started to fall. The ladies of the party were raising their hands to cover their mouths as they joined in the laughter, while the men shook their heads in amusement. A young lady, in particular, seemed to have eyes only for him, and looked wistfully up at the tall man beside her. Bob did not appear to notice this silent admiration. Instead, his gaze met Isla's, and his jovial expression hardened. The smile disappeared from his lips, and all color drained from his face. She was struck by his appearance; he had changed, and yet he had remained the same. She would have known him anywhere, but there was something different about his features; he was more manly, more mature than the school boy that he had been when Isla had last seen him, a good seven months ago. He was even taller, if that was possible, and his features were more clear and prominent.

Isla tore her gaze from his, and bent her head while trying to make her way towards the entrance of Diagon Alley as quickly as possible through the crowds. A few acquaintances greeted her on the way, but she did not pay them the slightest attention. She was not listening to the noises around her; her own frantic heartbeat in her ears seemed to shut out all other sounds.

Isla found herself on the pavement outside the Leaky Cauldron, the light rain falling on her face. The anonymity of muggle London was far too appealing to her at that moment to apparate home directly. She therefore mingled with the crowd, and walked in a direction she did not have the faintest idea where it led. To still her thumping heart was her first objective. The January biting cold and the rain on her face calmed her down much quicker than she had expected. She walked on in the chilly afternoon, and soon she found herself in a park. Due to the drizzle, very few people could be seen walking there, on the cobbled paths that winded among the large, leafless trees. Dusk had fallen, and night would soon cover the grey town, and Isla. She did not mind. She sat on a bench. A few tears made their lonely way from her black eyes down her cheeks. She was amazed she was still capable of tears; she thought she had drained all her resources.

She sat on the bench for Merlin knew how long. She scolded herself again and again for her discomposure at this chance meeting. _Foolish girl_, she kept thinking. She should not be so affected by his sudden appearance in Diagon Alley, a place where most of the wizarding population from all around the country frequented daily. At least this proved that he had chosen to live as a wizard. The thought was not in the slightest comforting to Isla. Now she knew that to meet him again by chance was far more probable than she liked it to be. These past seven months, that she had passed not seeing him every day, she had expected to see him again by chance, torn betweenfearing and wishing for a chance meeting. She realized that she had been foolish and sentimental to have hoped to see him again. What could come from such a meeting? Nothing, but remind her that the man she loved was forever out of her reach. All the feelings and memories she had carefully stowed away in the darkest corners of her mind suddenly came into a wave in the forefront of her thoughts. The park now was quite deserted, but Isla was glad for the privacy.

The cold that was freezing her feet and hands, and her numbness from the rain that had made its way through her stockings to her legs, brought her back to reality, and forced her at last to check her watch; two hour had passed. For two hours, Isla had been lost in her thoughts, in her memories, of Bob Hitchens. She scolded herself once more for her stupidity, but there was no denying the fact that she missed him greatly, and, at the brief moment that their eyes had met, more than ever. Too much she had wanted to say to him; too much would forever remain unspoken. Was this silence, this total submission, not to Sophia, but to the ludicrous dogma of the pure-bloods, this cowardice for the better? She sincerely doubted it. Yet, she could never reveal her rebellious thoughts to anyone. She should muffle their voice, and ignore them, as she had done for nearly a year. As the rain intensified and the clouds where illuminated by the moon, Isla decided that she should go home; she was not ready yet, but her further delaying her return at Number 12 could cause awkward questions that she was not in the mood to answer.

On arriving, she left her mother's things to Godam to sort out, and made her way towards her bedroom, when Phineas walked out of the drawing room. He scanned her with his penetrating eyes, and his thin eyebrows raised further up his forehead with each passing moment of scrutinizing his sister. Her wavy black hair fell limply on her back, damp as it was from the rain. Her robes were soaked, and the hem was muddy. Her cheeks were whiter than death, and her eyes were slightly red from crying.

"Ah, sister", he said in his sneering tone. "What in Merlin's name happened to you? You missed dinner. Why are you so disheveled? I hope that nothing went tragically wrong with your _research_", he said, as disdain and irony lay heavily on the last word.

"No, indeed, brother. Everything is fine, I assure you. I was simply caught in rain. I ran late in the laboratory."

"I see", said Phineas, obviously disapproving of her unkempt appearance. "Well, you are in luck, it would seem, for Mr Gamp is not visiting this evening. And we would not want him to see you in such a state, now, would we?"

"Indeed I would not. If you will excuse me, Phineas, I need to change to something dry before I catch cold."

And with that, Isla climbed the stairs to her room dejectedly; she could not be further bothered with Phineas that evening.

* * *

Once safe in the shelter of her private chamber, Isla changed into her warm and dry nightgown. The soft tapping noise that the rain made against her window was the most soothing sound she had ever heard. Not even for a moment did she consider sleeping. The few rays of moonlight that managed to escape the clouds illuminated the armchair by her window. Her bed had always been unbearable at her trying hours, with the crest and ridiculous motto painted over them in green color.

But before she took a seat in what she had come to think of as her comforter, Isla went to the shelf, and picked an old copy of the Daily Prophet. Sighing, she transfigured the book to its original form, as she lighted with a flick of her wand a single lamp. She settled down, and began reading the book that Bob had given her as a Christmas present last year: _Pride and Prejudice_.

She had vowed that she would never lay a hand on his gifts again, but if she did not tonight, she feared she should go distracted. Perhaps reading something that was so certain to remind her of him was a mistake; but, then again, people are rarely rational when sentiment takes over reason. Isla had been sorely tried that day. She could allow herself to dissolve into this prohibited book.

For the next two or three nights, Isla would go nowhere near her bed, despite her tiredness. She was in no position to sleep, and the novel seemed to drive her through her days. Her work in the laboratory was invaluable, for there she was completely oblivious to everything, apart of the experiments she was conducting.

Isla finished the novel in the middle of the night. She would have gone to sleep, but she knew better than to allow her eyes so much as to close with the heaviness of sleep. There was a good excuse at least for remaining awake.

She had enjoyed Jane Austen's novel very much. It was not a book she would have suspected Bob would have initially read of his own accord, but then she remembered he had two sisters, who would have probably scolded him into reading it. She believed that, once he had read it, he would be glad to his sisters for pressing it upon him. But Isla realized something more.

A year too late, she realized what Bob had been trying to say to her with his gift. This was no book that had been chosen randomly by Mr Hitchens; this was a story about two people falling in love. The story of a man and a woman from completely different social backgrounds falling in love and achieving their happy ending.

A long sigh left her lips as she realized that he had tried to tell her what she never believed possible that he would feel for her. What Sophia had persuaded her to never think possible. And now, because of her cowardice to face him and tell him that she could not possibly continue their friendship, she was little more that the most worthless of women for the way she had treated him. He would be angry at her, and rightfully so. _Ironic, is it not_, thought Isla, _how we have come full circle_.

As the moon was setting and the first rays of the sun made their way to her window, Isla wrapped herself tighter in her dressing gown. She wished to protect her small figure from the chill that was coming from outside, the deadly cold of the early morning, and the chill from within, that started from her ice-cold heart, and spread through her veins, freezing every atom of her body. Despair filled her, and at that moment she felt that the sun might rise, but it would never be warm again.

* * *

_Author's Note: Bob is back! Yay!_

_I am so sorry for the delay in posting this! It should have gone up on Thursday, but my laptop broke down! Thankfully, all is well now, so I should be able to resume posting as regularly as I did before this mishap._

_Once again, thanks for reading! Please don't forget to drop a review! :)_


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: The Ministry of Magic Research Committee

Isla was tired and pale the next morning at work, and for the first time since she had started at Professor Williams' team, she was glad when the day was finally over and she could return home to sleep. Nightmares inevitably followed, forcing her awake and fully aware of the miserable reality that she lived. Her spirits did not improve over the next week. Miss Macmillan asked her whether she was feeling alright, fearing that she might be coming down with a cold. Isla smiled kindly to her, thankful for her concern, but replied that her health was perfectly fine.

"Oh", said Miss Macmillan, blushing.

She understood that, whatever was the matter with Isla, it was something personal that she did not wish to speak about. She respected her wishes and did not broach the subject again, though Isla could see that she was throwing uneasy looks at her. Miss Macmillan herself seemed out of sorts lately. Isla wished she could talk to her about Bob, and then inquire her own troubles and fears. They did not have the appropriate level of intimacy, Isla realized, and therefore they could not be in each other's confidence. Isla could only hope that, in time, they would come to be friends and trust each other.

At least Isla had something to look forward to that week; Sophia and Duilius, who, unlike her, were not working on Saturdays, would be joining her on her lunch break that weekend. She had missed her friends greatly, since they had all been busy with their work. Ursula would be coming as well, to her dismay, but then again scarcely anything is exactly as one planned or wished it to be, and she was far too happy to see Sophia and Duilius to complain too much.

The week passed rather quickly, despite her melancholy mood, and at last Saturday dawned. She met her friends in Flourish and Blotts at midday, and together they walked to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. Throughout the meal, Sophia and Duilius would talk of little else other than their impending marriage. Their happiness was so contagious, that Isla found herself smiling in no time, and all the sorrow that she had felt on seeing Bob again dissolved into pleasure for her friends' joy. They would be able to afford to purchase a house by the end of spring, therefore they were scheduling the wedding to take place in the first week of June, for they could no longer bear to spend even the smallest amount of time apart. Never did Duilius let go of Sophia's hand, and Isla was so very happy for her friends and their bright future together. Of course, neither of their families had brooked the smallest opposition to the match. The Princes were honored to have a daughter married to a Max, and the Maxes were simply thrilled that their son had found such a good and beautiful young lady, whom he loved, and who, they were certain, would make him a very happy man.

The only person that had any ill humor towards the couple was Ursula. She sat silent as they talked incessantly of their joy, sneering in a way that would have shamed Phineas himself. He was the cause of her displeasure, after all. Nearly a year had passed since her graduation, and still Phineas had not proposed to her, after many an afternoon out together and hints in that direction. Frustration was getting the better of Miss Flint, as she had started to worry that Mr Black might have changed his mind, or have found a more suitable bride.

This hesitation to act of Phineas had not gone unnoticed by their father. At dinner that evening, as Isla mentioned the luncheon she had had, Mr Black turned to his son with a stern look.

"Have you proposed yet to Miss Flint, Phineas?"

"No, father", was his laconic answer, as he tried to contain his displeasure with the choice of subject his father had made.

"Well, you should hurry. Such eligible young ladies as Miss Flint will not be lacking offers, you can count on that. The Flints are one of the few pure-blood families that we Blacks are not related to. The connection is most desirable. And you must lose no time in producing an heir", said Mr Black, taking a sip from his wine, his eyes deadly cold.

Phineas, Isla noticed, had dropped his fork and knife at the sides of his plate as he heard talk of heirs. His expression was perfectly calm, and, if she weren't sitting next to him, she would not have seen the slight tremor in his hand. Isla was very much surprised by this inability to control himself. Her brother was always in command of himself and the situation, whatever that might be.

"Quite right, father. I am still in pursuit of a suitable ring. An appropriate moment for such a conversation has not yet presented itself in the time that I have spent with Miss Flint. I will ask for her hand in marriage as soon as such a moment arises."

Their father seemed pleased, and nodded at his son, before he signaled to Godam to bring the desert.

Isla was not long in recognizing her brother's discomposure for what it was. Phineas had never liked talk of children. In his father's urging to start a family as soon as possible, he had been thinking of Sirius. Children, whether their father loved their mother, or he had simply married her for her dowry and surname, died. Having lost a dear brother at a very young age, he was not willing to lose a child of his own. To claim that she did not understand his agony would be to lie; but she had come to believe that history was not bound to repeat itself indefinitely, that, in each generation of the Black family, a child would be tragically lost. She dared not comfort Phineas; her words of reassurance would not be welcome, and would only serve to widen the already insurmountable chasm in their relationship. Phineas would have to find the strength to fight his demons on his own.

* * *

Two weeks passed, and Phineas had yet to propose to Miss Flint. Her annoyance at his delay had reached a peak, and Isla was very glad that she no longer shared every hour of the day with her.

At the end of these two weeks, however, something happened to take her mind completely off her brother's inability to pronounce a single question to the woman he had long since decided to share his life, status and riches with. Professor Williams gathered the whole team in the meeting room of the laboratory for an important announcement. The significance of this meeting was stressed to all, for it was Monday, and Professor Williams should be at Hogwarts, teaching, instead of addressing them, in Diagon Alley.

"Well, as soon as I got this letter", he indicated a piece of parchment that was in his hand, "I immediately asked Professor Fortescue for a couple of hours leave." He paused, to collect his thoughts, and, after a deep sigh, continued. "The Ministry informs me that the research committee wish to inspect our progress so far, in order to ascertain that the fund they are providing us with is put to good use. In short, when they realized that we have not yet reached a satisfying result, they will stop the financial support."

The silence that followed was thick, as the members of his team exchanged worried glances.

"Jolly good!", barked Mr Blishwick, and every single pair of eyes turned to stare at him in utter disbelief.

"Would you be so kind as to explain what in Merlin's name is 'jolly good', Mr Blishwick?", asked Professor Williams, annoyed. "As far as _I_ can see it, this could very well be the last week that we work in this project!"

Professor Williams' voice was raising with each word he uttered, and the line that ran deep on his forehead had appeared, underlining his anxiety.

"Come, John, don't be ridiculous!"

Isla flinched as she heard for the first time Professor Williams addressed by his given name. Mr Blishwick winked at her and murmured under his breath-

"We were classmates."

Isla tried hard to contain a smile, as the image of the quiet, collected and focused Professor Williams sitting next to the buoyant, loud and scatterbrained Mr Blishwick. A loud scoff from Professor Williams reminded her that this was hardly a situation for laughter. The stony expression that was embedded in every Black descendant soon replaced the contorted look on her face.

"Mr Blishwick, might I remind you that we are-"

"No, _John_, you may not", said Mr Blishwick, in a manner that made it clear to them all that he would be heard. "This team of witches and wizards, the team that _you_ created, has done extraordinary work over the past few months. It is true, we are having problems. Quite a few of them. But _without_ problems, there would be no need for research in the first place. Besides, Mr Percy has found a solution for the problem Mrs Reynolds encountered with the water contained in food, and I am working on the charm that Miss Black required to prove that flavor cannot be given to objects transfigured into food. Miss Macmillan, how are you doing with the transfiguration of water into carbon and vice versa?", he barked, turning towards her.

"Well. I need Professor Williams' assistance with balancing the percentage of water before and after the transfiguration."

"There you have it. We are moving forward. Slowly, but we are. We are not going to produce a result tomorrow; we will probably not be able to give any satisfactory conclusions for the foreseeable future. The Ministry knows this. They will _not _stop the funding. So do us all a favor, and stop exaggerating."

He stared Professor Williams straight into the eye, and for a moment, their combined gazes could have opened a hole in the wall. Professor Williams slowly lowered his eyes, and nodded.

"You may be right, Anthony. But we will have to be very careful. We have all worked very hard so far. I could not bear it if the Ministry stopped the funding because of a squeamish Ministry official", he said, and tiredly sank into a chair.

"Does the Ministry inform you when we might expect their representative, Professor?", asked Mrs Reynolds.

"Next Monday, they write. I shall take leave of absence for a few days, and then ask for permission to leave the schools in the afternoons. I want to be here as much as possible while the official is inspecting us", said Professor Williams, as he threw a careless look at the letter.

Something on the parchment caught his attention, and he examined it closely. Without taking his eyes from it, he ended the meeting. As Isla made for the door to return to her experiments, he called her.

"Miss Black, a word in private, if you please."

Isla nodded, and shut the door as soon as the rest of the team were out of the room. She approached her employer timidly, for she could see that, no matter what Mr Blishwick told his old friend, there was no pacifying his anxiety.

"Do not worry, sir, all will be well", attempted Isla to reassure him.

Professor Williams ran a hand over his eyes, before resting his chin in it.

"Yes, it will. However, I think I ought to inform you, Miss Black-"

He hesitated. Isla urged him to go on.

"I just realized that the research committee has been kind enough as to inform me of who is to conduct the evaluation. They are sending a newly recruited member of the committee by the name of Robert Hitchens", he said, finally looking at her in the eye.

Instinctively, Isla's hand found the surface of the table, and for a moment she lost her composure and manners. Nearly a year of perfect performances of indifference, composure and scorn, went down the drain in a single sentence.

"What?"

It was only a second, but she immediately straightened herself, and controlled her countenance. She was a Black, for Merlin's sake, and she would act like one, even if it was the last thing she did. How had she come to act and think as she just did?

"I did not know that he was employed at the Ministry", she said quietly.

"Well, so it would seem. Miss Black...", said Professor Williams hesitantly. "If I am not prying, what happened that day in the library? Mr Hitchens seemed very shaken by the whole incident, and his behavior was most unusual. And, of course, the breakdown..."

Never had Isla seen her old professor hesitate to deliver a speech, or to require to know her most intimate thoughts. She was no longer his student, however. She was a young woman, who had an obligation to her family, she kept reminding herself. All confidence between them, just as all communication between herself and Bob, should be stopped without delay.

"Professor Williams, I must beg to be spared such a conversation. I am afraid that the incident to which you refer is none of your concern, and I therefore ask you to respect my wish for privacy." She would have made her father proud, so cold was her voice. This thought only served to make her feel a deep disgust for behavior. "I do not know how you came to know of-of what passed that day between myself and Mr Hitchens, but I would be grateful if you would not mention it again. Now, you must excuse me; I am falling behind on my work."

He regarded her with a deep sadness in his eyes. It pained her to alienate her mentor, but there was nothing else to be done.

"Miss Black, do not presume to toy with me", he said, at once resuming all the authority that he had as a teacher. "Now, sit down, and tell me everything. It is evident that you are greatly tormented with something. I may be able to offer advice."

"I cannot", she said with a sigh, as she slowly sat in a chair.

This man had been her teacher for seven years. He had been the only one to understand her for who she was, and not simply dismiss her as another Black child. He had been the only one to urge her to better herself in the matters that her character and knowledge truly lacked. He was her employer, and only ally. Even Sophia was against her, no matter how close they were, or how happy Isla was for her friend's union with her cousin.

"I am sorry, Professor, about what I said earlier", she said with a sigh. "I had no right and no wish to speak to you as I did. But, the fact is, I am scared. You once warned me to be careful. I was careless with Bob Hitchens. I have no one to blame but myself in this awful situation. I have pained both Mr Hitchens and myself in my stupidity. I chose the wrong way to end our friendship. I know that now. But there is no going back, and, whatever the case, this is still the best solution I can think of."

"Did your family learn of your friendship with him? Is that what you are afraid of?"

"No. Nothing of the sort. They came close, to be sure, but I managed to prevent exposure. No. I realized..." She swallowed hard before continuing. "It makes no difference any more. I have an obligation to my family. I cannot gainsay them. Mr Hitchens' friendship made the society I know absolutely intolerable. It is, however, the society that I have grown into, the society I know, and the people among whom I shall live for the remainder of my life. I must strive to be a dutiful daughter, and a respected member of the society in which I was born."

"Very well", he said, realization and acceptance written across his face. "But be warned, Miss Black. Your efforts will come to nothing. You can never be one of them. You are far superior to their ridiculous kind."

"I have no choice", she answered, and was out of the room before Professor Williams could so much as blink an eye.

* * *

The week before the inspection passed in a flutter for the whole of the team. They had to clean thoroughly the premises, so that they would be sparkling, they had to create a file with their progress so far, they had to make sure that, whatever conclusions they had made thus far, were accurate, and arrange the experiments they were currently working on so that they would be easily inspected. Little was done during that week with regards to pure research, but none complained; presenting a good image to the research committee man was of vital importance.

Monday came, and Isla found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the theory of the spell she should be learning for the completion of her experiment. Mr Blishwick's notes, for he was the one that explained anything concerning charms to his colleagues, were always neatly written and very helpful, but she could not take in a single word. She gave up the attempt in frustration, as a knock was heard on the door of her room.

"Enter", she said as her heart raced.

Miss Macmillan came in, holding a great stack of rolls of parchment. Isla exhaled a long held breath, remembering that, had it been him, she would have first heard the bell ring on the front door.

"I see you cannot work either", she said, her anxiety evident in her face. "Perhaps you can help me sort these, just to keep our hands occupied. I am certain, I shall go mad with anticipating this dreadful man coming over to inspect us."

"I know how you feel", muttered Isla to her companion, as she rose to help her.

Both young women found solace in the mechanic job they set to do, for it required minimum thought, and kept them busy.

They had been bustling around in the filing room for a good two hours, when the bell of the door rang loudly. An armful of rolls of parchment that she was bringing in for sorting escaped Isla's hands at the sound, and her heart began immediately to race. She hurriedly shut the door, and tried to collect herself. Miss Macmillan was too busy trying to pick up the parchments to notice that Miss Black had gone deathly white, and that her hands were slightly shaking.

_For Merlin's sake, woman_, she reprimanded herself, _this is no more than you expected_. She took a few deep breaths, and managed to collect herself. She was standing again in no time, following Miss Macmillan to the meeting room to greet the man who would be doing the evaluation. Isla's heart was thumping faster with each step she took, but none of this discomposure showed on her serene face. The door was opened, Isla walked through it and into the chamber. And there he was, standing, with a charming smile of goodwill that reached his eyes and his heart, and that was the truest smile that she had seen in months. Isla seated herself at the back of the room, were she was thankfully joined by Miss Macmillan. Professor Williams and Bob rose.

"Let me introduce to you Mr Hitchens, our esteemed inspector from the Ministry of Magic Research Committee. Mr Hitchens shall be among us, I am told, for a month, in order to ascertain that everything is in good order, and that our work is proving fruitful. Now, Mr Hitchens, allow me the pleasure of introducing my team. Mrs Reynolds, Mr Percy, Mr Blishwick, Miss Macmillan, and Miss Black, whom I presume you recall from Hogwarts", said Professor Williams, as he pointed each person he named.

Bob had bestowed a warm smile to all that were introduced to him, bowing gallantly to the ladies, and cordially shaking the hands of the gentlemen. To Isla, however, he barely bowed his head.

"Indeed", he said, in the voice that she recalled him using to her after the Quidditch final in their sixth year. "Miss Black."

"Mr Hitchens", she said, equally coldly.

All the haughtiness of the Blacks was in the slight nod of the head that she gave to Bob. She was disgusted and pleased with herself at the same time. The welcoming of Mr Hitchens took a few more moments, and then Professor Williams released them. Isla maintained her dignity, and did not run out of the room as quickly as her legs would carry her, as she would have liked to do. She walked slowly, her head held high, with Miss Macmillan by her side.

"You two have taken a liking to each other, haven't you?", she asked playfully in Isla's ear.

Her first reaction was to abruptly turn and demand from the other woman how in Merlin's name she had got that impression. But the look in Miss Macmillan's eyes assured her that she was simply teasing their apparent dislike for one another.

"Oh, yes", said Isla, relaxing. "Can't you tell we were inseparable at school?"

Miss Macmillan giggled merrily at her words, not for a moment suspecting that they might be true, or very nearly so.


End file.
